Do We Really Need Men?

Why do we need men? Other than for reproduction and level shelves. I don't think we really do. But we want them. We complain about them to our friends, colleagues, mothers, taxi drivers, bank clerks, any who listen. But we can't seem to live without them. We find SOMETHING sexy about them. But what and why?

There are so many different types of men to fit all the types of different women out there. Tall, dark and handsome ones. Short slim, athletic ones. Big, strong protective ones. Kind, sweet pathetic (and usually ugly) ones. Fat ones, slim ones, addicted to the gym ones. Smooth ones, hairy ones, creepy, weird and scary ones. Poor ones, wealthy ones, drug addict unhealthy ones. Clever ones, thick ones, really massive.... you get the idea right?

I am a firm believer that there is someone out there for each of us. And however many times we THINK we have found them, when we actually have, we KNOW. Everyone has at least one horror story, at least one sweet puppy love story, and hopefully, before their time is up, most people will have their 'The Notebook' story. *swoons*

This, is something it took me a fair few years to learn, and I know a lot of people never do learn it. But the key to a great, amazing relationship (in my opinion).... is humour. Don't take yourself, each other, or your life together too seriously. My other half and I are best friends, totally, completely, unarguably, inseparable. We laugh about anything and everything. We laugh at ourselves, and we laugh at our arguments. Fair enough sometimes it take a little while to see the funny side, but once we have, it takes the staleness from the air in seconds. And seeing the cheeky little glint come back in his eye, I fall in love with him over and again every single time.

Of course, my man isn't perfect. He's a little annoying and he stutters when he's lying. He has a condition common in males called toiletseatupitis. He doesn't understand that being asked to help out with something means now, not after the episode of Countryfile that he's all of a sudden really involved in. And the worst bit of all, is that he is so so similar to me, its shocking. Thus making it very difficult to tell him off when he misbehaves, very difficult not to laugh (which encourages children, men and badly trained pets to continue with bad behaviour), and impossible to resist getting drawn along too. But looking at the good, the bad and the ugly... Look at yourself, know you're not perfect and therefore appreciate that he isn't, otherwise he wouldn't have looked at you twice! No one is perfect, but if you find someone you gel with like that, you have the best thing you will ever get... You found someone perfect for YOU. 

In a sharp swerve to avoid reaching a higher level of slushiness, I feel I must point out, that it is healthy to loath our men. Healthy to look at them and want to stab them in the eyeball with a fork. Healthy to be angry at their parents for ever creating them. Believe me, they feel the same about you sometimes. I sometimes hate mine when I can't even see him. He called me from Scotland (yes, still working away) on Sunday, during my favourite programme X Factor (the final). OK. Quite a sweet move as we normally watch it together at home. However, he then proceeded to talk ALL the way through it and tell me how rubbish it all was. I'd missed most of it because of him telling me about his terrible nights sleep the night before, so I couldn't devise my own opinion as to whether it was awful or not. Thanks babe. I could have got mad at him for ruining my programme, slating my favourite act and breathing loudly when Gary Barlow was talking. But I didn't. I sat there and just smiled. He was talking his little head off about his day and what we'll do when he gets home. He misses me. And that's his way of telling me. He's still a complete cow's boob for making me lose out, but looking at the bigger picture, I gained this amazing fluttery feeling in my chest that was far superior to watching gerbil face and her mates win a record contract. 

Whether we like tall, short, fat, thin, black or white men, they are all horrible. They are all unsanitary, lazy, unromantic, self obsessed pain in the asses. But you have no idea how bad we are in lots of different ways. I know for a fact that if I was Dane, I'd leave me. And probably kick me on the way out.

I love my man, good, bad and ugly. Looking at the positives keeps it fresh in my mind, just how lucky we are to have found each other. 

You may now be sick.