Happy Birthday, Mr Tabubil!

In honor of the birthday of my very own Best Beloved Mr Tabubil, here is one of my two favorite Mr Tabubil stories. This one dates back about four years, to when we were living in Toronto.

When Mr Tabubil Came Home Tired Last Night
12 October 06

He turned the key in the lock and by the time the door was open, she was there in front of him, beaming happily, bouncing on her toes. At the sight of his drawn face, her smile slid into a lower, more concerned register and she draw him into a hug.
"Long commute today?"
He slumped against her shoulders and she deftly slipped of his coat and drew him toward the sofa.
"Shall I start dinner?  D'you want to help?  Just sit?  You sit."

He trudged off to the bedroom to change.Tugging on an old T-shirt he heard a terrific clanging chaos break out in the kitchen. Galvanized, he stood frozen with the t-shirt half over his head and listened to a metal waterfall hammer and jangle its way out of a cupboard and onto the floor.
The din petered out into the nyoing-nyoing-nyoing of a lone spinning saucepan lid and then, into the silence, he heard a small voice say:
"Oh BUGGER.  I forgot that I set that up for YOU."

His evening brightened dramatically.


I'm not allowed to tell the other story.
It involves a heavily jet-lagged Mr Tabubil, and the calculated deployment of a dinner of Liver and Onions and a pair of saggy nylon granny panties.
I will say only this: it was possibly the most impressively successful Valentine's Day in history.