This weekend S and I travelled to Scotland to attend the wedding of a school friend. We decided to set off super early so we could go to Edinburgh Zoo on the Friday (please note, the Zoo itself is fab except for two things: they have beavers and you have to walk up a MASSIVE hill to see some poxy zebras, which lets remember, are just horses with stripes - so not worth it), we did get to see koalas and a polar bear and a teeny tiny baby penguin. As an added bonus I also got to spend 20 minutes queuing for the toilets behind a Russian school group.
On the Saturday we made our way to the wedding venue. A castle. And not one of those we'll-call-it-a-castle-but-its-actually-just-a-big-house type castle. No, an actual, could have been in Cinderella, fricking castle! The wedding was gorgeous, the bride looked stunning and it went very well (the wedding that is, I ended up falling asleep in the toilet and then falling in a bath but that's another story.)
One last thing, S and I have been together for nearly five years now and were therefore continuously asked when it would be our big day and then, when we paused with no answer, I was routinely patted on the shoulder and told not to worry. This grates after a while let me tell you.
Anyway, from then on S tried to avoid all public displays of affection (a common thing with him anyway I might add). I resigned myself to being the unloved until... in the middle of the service S tentatively touched my hand and gently stroked my palm with the back of his thumb.
All is not lost, I thought!
Later I quietly mentioned that it was very sweet of him to stroke my hand when they were saying their vows.
He pauses. He looks confused.
I continue, 'During the service, you stoked the palm of my hand really romantically.'
He stays confused and then suddenly it dawns on him, 'What? No, I had an itch and didn't want to scratch it myself.'
A human scratching post. Bloody fab.
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