Things my husband has broken

Being married is a very good thing. However, boys break stuff and are clumsy. Don’t get married if you’re not OK with living in a house that keeps getting trashed by someone with the manual dexterity of a diplodocus. After 6 years of marriage this is the tally so far (doesn’t include anything he broke before we got married, because that would be tooooo much stuff):

  • 4 breakfast bowls, smashed
  • 6 tea towels either torn or burnt. Or both.
  • 3 plates, chipped
  • 1 mug, chipped
  • 1 teapot, smashed
  • 1 cafetiere, smashed after previously surviving six years in universities, moving to London, moving away from London, moving to Staffordshire, moving to Somerset
  • 1 South Park drinking glass, commemorating my sojourn in Lampeter 1998-2001, smashed into tiny little bits
  • 1 wine glass (only one?)
  • 4 plates, chipped
  • 1 frying pan, handle came off (HOW?)
  • My Bible, spine broken
  • 2 doofers for stopping hair going down the plughole, one squashed, the other snapped
  • 1 oven door, completely shattered into tiny tiny bits
  • 1 crochet hook, snapped
  • 2 picture frames, glass broken (2 different occasions)
  • 1 butcher’s block chopping board. Quite impressive that he managed to break this humungous piece of super-durable lifetime-guaranteed kitchen furniture
  • 4 sets of bedlinen, either stained with blood after he played hockey, or losing pillowcases (how?) or by losing an entire set of new bedlinen, or by getting tyre marks on them (again, HOW?)

In case you’re wondering, do I have anything left that is nice or worth stealing? Nope. Having said all this, I love my husband very, very much. And he is worth what it costs to replace what he breaks. Mostly.

If nothing else, this shows that my beloved husband does have a tremendous gift. But I’m not quite sure how to employ it

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