Open Writing

How much do you really know about the chap who cringes behind the cornflakes every morning?

For instance when he eats his boiled egg does he (a) sever it gently with little taps…. (b) remove the top with his spoon … (c) does he give it one sharp slice with his knife? Or perhaps (d) he hasn’t the strength to do either and usually asks you?

Well, sometimes it pays to notice these small foibles, especially if you want to enter the Mr and Mrs Contest TV contest.

Perplexed contestants are regularly finding out how little they know about their mates. When one Mrs was asked this question last week she confidently informed everyone that her Mr always cuts the top of his egg straight off.

She giggled a little with embarrassment at this secret revelation concerning his breakfast habits. Her mirth was cut short when he emerged from the soundproof box and confessed, with a shy glance at his glowing egg-timer, that he always severed it gently with a few sharp taps. When he heard his wife’s differing answer, he looked as if he would like to perform the same service on her top. As they departed one could sense that their future happiness will definitely not be egg-shaped!

But to win the prize their answers must concur. One husband who admitted he spent a lot of time collecting vintage cars stated emphatically that his wife never wore face cream in bed. He looked shocked when she blatantly confessed she wore a ‘little.’ But how many of us take the trouble to notice our partner’s idiosyncrasies?

Do people who take part in these televised marriage games have to rehearse rigorously beforehand? One can imagine their excitement the previous week with all the tenacious snooping into each other’s privacy, all that silent surveillance at meal times. Or perhaps a sneaky key-hole preview at his bathroom rituals. All’s fair in love and jackpot hunting.

Does he begin his shaving at the right or left side of his five o’clock shadow? Do you know? Let’s face it, at that hour does he? This may sound trivial. You are sure you know all your adorable’s tendencies, but he may have developed a few new tricks without consulting you. If he shaves the left cheek first, without you realising it, what else has he been up to during the last decade without your knowledge?

But after the easy week of intimate confessions the big day arrives. There stand the happy couples, hands entwined, peeping coyly at each other with that ‘I-know-all-about-you-mate’ expression in their eyes.

Then comes the shock, he is convinced his arm goes further around her waist than it used to, when actually she knows her measurements are exactly the same as the day he married her. Oh – the shame of it! What can he be thinking of – or even worse – who can he be thinking of!

You can see by the look on her face that future embracing is cancelled. The monocled compere, a bundle of joviality, asks who would like to hold the candelabra. Four arms stretch forward eagerly and usually the wife takes this consolation, probably husband gets his share later!

Then, confidence in shreds, the unhappy couple sit and watch the next two reveal how much they don’t know about each other. Surely we are discovering new traits to our characters all the time. Is it not this which makes marriage so . . .er . . .interesting?

We had been married for five years before I discovered that apple crumble was not my husband’s favourite dessert. ‘Why do we have apple crumble every Thursday?’ grumbled one bored young gourmet.

‘Because it is Daddy’s favourite.’

‘Who says?’ inquires Daddy.

‘But you have always liked it, that’s why I make it.’

‘I eat it because you make it.’

‘But it is your favourite,’ my voice is rising dangerously.

‘No it isn’t, I like jam rolypoly.’

‘But I never make jam rolypoly!’

‘That’s why I eat apple crumble.’

End of conversation and the Thursday ritual of apple crumble which we had all been sick of for years!

I wonder what effect the Mr and Mrs programme has on the relationship of those who take part. Not long ago we had to suffer the other extreme, glowing examples of the ‘Husband of the Year’ with gushing heroes pouring their virtues all over Marj Proops and company. I actually felt really grateful to this programme for showing me what life could be like with a paragon husband.

If mine said he never lost his temper, I should feel tempted to spend the rest of my life provoking him. But then I never did want a perfect husband and can only hope he never wanted a perfect wife.

Dr John Hack, an American psychologist, is currently investigating the state of marriage. According to him, ‘The time it takes to boil a couple of eggs is all it needs to jeopardise a marriage.’ Then he frightens us all into mental wrecks by pointing out the danger times.

He believes that evenings and mornings should start with warnings. Breakfast and when husband returns from work are periods when your marriage is in the most danger. Monday mornings and Friday nights are also considered to be hazardous times, and Sunday evenings need watching too.

According to these calculations, Dr Hack, it seems the only times our marriage is not in jeopardy is when we are all asleep?

It doesn’t seem so long since that another distinguished professor informed us not to bottle up our emotions, as this could have a damaging effect on our relationships. He advised couples to shout and bawl at each other – a great relief for pent-up tensions.

So what do we do? Start throwing ornaments or silently sit avoiding each other? I think the most dangerous threats to marriage are eminent psychologists and their interfering, useless surveys, and I for one intend to go straight out and buy some more ornaments.