Special kids

I recently caught up with a friend who I hadn't seen for a while. One of her first questions to me was, "how are you and GBM, still going strong?" I gave affirmation to her query. 

Her response amused and bemused me. "Oh thank god! 'Cos let's be honest... it's not like anyone else would have either of you!"

Say what now?

She then went on to point out a few situations which she felt only GBM and I could possibly find entertaining. Like waiting in ambush for each other in our own home, to see who can give the other one a bigger fright late at night. Or me waking GBM up from an afternoon nap by dripping water on to his exposed neck. Okay, I might've found this more amusing than him. But to be fair, just the evening before he had chucked a handful of water in my face as I emerged from a loo break. So childish.

Or sabotaging each other's drinks (alcoholic or not) by spiking the beverage with sugar-coated sweets. How is this not amusing? It activates the carbonate and makes the drink taste horrific to the unsuspecting palate. Double whammy!

I realised she might have a point. 

The other day, GBM made the mistake of leaving home without any form of rain protection. Amateur mistake. So later, when it (not unsurprisingly) started raining, I took great delight in taunting him with all my layers. 

"Oh my, look at that. It's raining. I think I better put on my RAIN coat. Oh, and what's this... I have a hat too! I hate it when my hair gets wet because I am unprepared for Dutch weather."

GBM responded as any mature adult would, by merrily donning a bright red plastic packet on his head. This, he claimed, had the duel function of keeping his perfectly-styled hair dry and protecting his glasses from rain drops.

He looked like Papa Smurf, sans-beard. I was highly entertained. I'm glad we've found each other - this level of humour would be wasted on the unappreciative.