With Valentine’s Day just done and dusted I have found myself remembering the days of ‘new love’ (as opposed to ‘now we’ve been married forever love’).
Back towards the end of my single days, I was sick and tired of dating the wrong guy.
Just to help clarify things in my mind, I developed a boyfriend criteria.
The boyfriend criteria was designed to help me weed through the wrong guys in a bid to find the right guy.
Essentially it was a business card sized piece of paper that I had divided into two categories:
1. Wish list – which included things such as ‘plays the guitar’ and ‘nice teeth’. The purpose of the wish list was to help me visualise what I thought would be nice to have in a partner. Of course, any guy who was otherwise perfect but didn’t match certain elements of the wish list could still slip through the cracks if he was lucky.
2. Deal Breakers – which included things like ‘gambling addiction’ and ‘drug user.
Any characteristic that made it to this list meant that if I spotted it in a potential partner then I wasn’t prepared to waste any more time on them at all. End of story. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.
On top of the copy I kept in my purse, I also hung a copy of this list on my fridge, so that anyone who came into my house knew what I was chasing.
It became a great conversation piece, and to be honest, mostly it was only good for a laugh.
Once The Farmer was on the scene, I ran the list past him too. He didn’t play the guitar. He didn’t live in the city. He had lovely teeth though and beautiful skin.
Plus he got on well with his parents. Most importantly he didn’t meet any of the items on my deal breaker list. He was worth the effort.
So given that I had the criteria drawn up and then the universe provided, one has to wonder if the list played any part in nabbing me a husband?
Which brings me to my next point… perhaps I need to renew the original list and rename it, ‘the husband criteria’?
Maybe the new wish list items could include ‘shuts cupboard doors after using them’, ‘empties the rubbish without announcing that he’s emptying the rubbish loudly and repeatedly’ and ‘gives me a neck massage at the end of every day’ or ‘offers to take the kids off my hand at least once a day’.
I’m so relieved The Farmer didn’t have the foresight to do up a girlfriend criteria. I dread to think about if I’d have made the cut or not. One thing is for sure. My list certainly served a purpose.
Fourteen years later and my Mr Right and I are still together. Perhaps it was the list, or perhaps it was all just a matter of timing.
