I Fall For Bert All Over Again

Have I ever told the world that I love Bert very much? Is it terribly corny that I’m telling you all on St Valentine’s Day? Bear with me while I explain.

I told Bert yesterday that I would not be getting him a card because it was all far too silly. Then I went to work saying “See you tomorrow then”

Work was OK. It wasn't exactly Chillage Village because the clientele were being their usual annoying, prat-like selves so I was perversely pleased when postie did not bring any of them cards this morning.

So perhaps it served me right later that morning when I slipped on a wet floor in the kitchen area and went on my beam end with a resounding crash. My backside, being very well padded, came to no harm but I really hurt my left wrist, which I’d thrown out to save myself. I also banged my right elbow and hurt my right wrist.

Hmmm. I wept a little and felt very sorry for myself then being an optimist started to look on the bright side. This was the perfect excuse not to have to clean the flat that had been vacated the previous day by a complete minger.

Then I started to feel sorry for myself again. I’m just about to have two weeks holiday and I am injured. Optimism surges again. Oh wise up – you’re not that injured, ignore it, it will go away. So I bravely continued with my work – administrative and support work only and I worked like a Trojan. Filed an accident report and a risk assessment, made sure I completed all the paperwork for the booking out and put the day in rightly. The wrist was pretty sore but not so bad that I felt the need to spend half the day in Antrim Area waiting for an x-ray. Driving home was a bit rough. It would have been OK if I could have done without reverse and fifth gear and I really wished I’d an automatic.

When I got home Bert was out. I noticed a large bag sitting on the kitchen table but I was too busy reheating pizza, saying hello to the dogs and feeding Harry de Cat to pay attention to it. It was from the chemist and I knew Bert had been to the dentist that morning and he always buys a shopful of dental hygiene products when he’s been to the dentist.

But at last I had a look. It was one of my favourite perfumes. And it was being hugged by a little teddy bear. Bert has often bought me perfume but in nearly 19 years this is the first time he’s ever bought me a soft toy because we reckon we’re far too sensible for that sort of sentimental nonsense. But … I’m melting inside. I haven’t even taken it out of its wrapper and I know I’ll treasure it forever. I’ll even knit it a jumper.

I still haven’t seen or spoken to Bert this St Valentine’s Day and I’m just about to tell the world – I love him so much. I love him despite the tin-whistling. It’s not because of the teddy bear. That just reminded me.