How to Have an Almost Perfect Marriage

by Mrs Stephen Fry

  edna: Well they haven’t pretended to enjoy themselves with me.

  stephen: How do you know?

  edna: I just do.

  stephen: Are you absolutely sure?

  edna: I think I would have noticed if they had appeared to be enjoying themselves.

  stephen: Ah, at last…

  (the kebab shop owner places Stephen’s kebab on the counter in front of him. Stephen immediately starts to devour it, ferociously)

  stephen: Mmm…Oh…Mmmm…

  edna: Are you quite alright, dear?

  stephen: Oh…Oh god…Mmmm Oh God…Mmmm…mmm…mmmm…Oh God…Oh yeah, that’s so good…(Edna shuffles uneasily and looks nervously around the kebab shop)

  edna: What on earth are you doing, dear? People are looking.

  stephen: Mmmmm…Yes Yes Yes…Mmm…mmm…Yes Yes Yes…Mmm…Mmmm…Mmmmm…Oh God Oh…Huh?

  kebab shop owner: (turning to Edna) And what would you like, my friend?

  edna: Well, I’m certainly not having what he’s having!

  DAY TRIPS AND HOLIDAYS

  For those of you seeking to escape those four walls but unable to free yourself of your familial responsibilities, a day trip or family holiday might be the answer. These come in all shapes and forms – the only limitation being your imagination. And your budget. And whether or not your children suffer from travel sickness.

  Picnics

  What more enjoyable way can there be for a family to spend time together than to go for a lovely picnic? Eating al fresco is one of the greatest pleasures in life, laying a blanket on the ground in a beautiful golden meadow, sipping champagne and breaking bread together as you listen to the birdsong and bathe in the glorious summer sun – idyllic! Unless you live in Britain, of course. Here is my recipe for a traditional British picnic.

  In days gone by, the great British family picnic was a commonplace, almost daily event – until houses were invented. In the Edwardian era, the picnic was a very grand affair featuring tables, butlers and lobster aplenty. These days, things are a little less extravagant but no less enjoyable.

  First you need a hamper, or other appropriate food-carrying receptacle such as a cool-box or small suitcase. Preparation is everything when it comes to picnics – make sure you begin at least half an hour before you head out. Pack whatever cutlery you will need. Don’t worry about the family silver-effect – plastic knives, forks, spoons and beakers are perfectly acceptable. If space is at a premium you can even take multi-purpose items such as the spork (a combination of spoon and fork) or a relatively recent scientific picnic advancement, a clever combination of wine glass, tankard, goblet and cup – the Wankard’n’Goblup.

  Of course, no picnic would be complete without that all-important flask of tea. Simply follow my patented Perfect Cuppa recipe from earlier in the book, adjusting the number of teabags to account for the number of picnickers. Again, if space is at a premium, instead of the standard size tartan family flask, you can use a smaller, slimmer steel hip flask, making sure you first empty the contents down your throat.

  The next stage is to decide where you are going to go. This is always a difficult decision for us as McDonalds and KFC are in opposite directions. Generally, after a lively family discussion, we end up going to both. You should never skimp when it comes to picnics!

  Once the burgers, nuggets, drumsticks, fries and Alvin and the Chipmunks figurines are safely in your hamper, you are ready to hit the open road and go off into the wild grey yonder. If you intend to use an official picnic site, make sure you park within a short distance of the tables. That way, you have something to look at through the windows while you eat your food.

  Other possible picnic venues you may wish to consider are the sea front, Tesco’s car park and that old stand-by, the lay-by (please remember that the hard shoulder on a motorway should only be used for an emergency picnic). All of these venues allow for a thoroughly enjoyable family picnic without the inconvenience of having to leave your vehicle.

  For those of you brave enough to attempt a meal in the Not-so-great Outdoors, you have more than the British Summer to contend with. While we may not have the same picnicking concerns as our friends across the Atlantic, such as grizzly bears and drive-by shootings, there are still those old enemies of the al frescan, the cow-pat and our little six-legged friend, the ant.

  The humble ant is an extraordinary creature, capable of lifting up to six billion times its own bodyweight – the equivalent of you or I lifting an oil tanker or an ant lifting a house. To the ant, a picnic isn’t a family occasion, it’s a finely tuned military operation, where the objective is to free as many items of food from the enemies’ clutches as quickly as possible. If you are to stand a chance of enjoying a peaceful family picnic, you must take extreme measures. When we last encountered this problem, Stephen tried winning the hearts and minds of the local ant population by handing out Britney Spears CDs and posing for photographs with them but to no avail, so he was left with no choice but to adopt what he calls ‘Shock and Awe’ tactics. Essentially, this involves him removing his trousers and dancing the Macarena until the other picnickers can’t take any more, leaving us to sit at whichever ant-free picnic table we choose (cautionary note – if you choose to adopt this approach, be aware that the conflict could continue for several years, sustaining many casualties).

  Camping and Caravanning

  If you prefer to get a real taste of the wild outdoors, as opposed to the wild indoors, you can always try camping or caravanning. Just pause for a moment to picture yourself, your partner and your children spending the night together under canvas – and buy a caravan. You just can’t beat the thrill of setting off into the wild, caravan careering hazardously as you round each tight bend in that country road until, finally, you arrive at your destination and experience that inimitable adrenalin rush as you pitch up for the night and open the caravan door to discover which of your cooking utensils and children are still intact.

  The Family Holiday

  Of all the different types of holiday, Stephen’s favourite is the ‘staycation’, or as we call it in Great Britain, the ‘brollyday’. He has all the amenities of being at home without the inconvenience of travelling, meeting other people and having to eat foreign curries and kebabs. On the odd occasion I have managed to persuade him to leave this sceptred isle, one of the difficulties we’ve faced is conversing with the locals. This can be doubly challenging if they don’t speak English. To this end, Stephen has developed his own particular language, Desperanto, which, when spoken loudly enough with enough accompanying hand gestures, seems to make him understood. Here is a list of his top 10 – indeed, his only 10 – all-purpose phrases, seemingly understandable in every corner of the northern Mediterranean. Personally, I haven’t a clue what they mean.

  1.O sole mio

  2.Una paloma blanca

  3. Vorsprung durch technik

  4.Hasta la vista, baby

  5.Fan dabi dozi

  6.Milli vanilli

  7.Zig a zig ah

  8.Julio Iglesias

  9.Va va voom

  10.Nessun dorma

  If you would like further information about family holidays abroad, I recommend you purchase a copy of the excellent How To Have An Almost Perfect Family Holiday. I forget the author’s name…

  chapter eight

  Magic Moments

  WEDDING ANNIVERSARIES

  Traditionally, each year of your marriage is celebrated with a different theme. Most people know about gold, silver and ruby but here is a comprehensive list I’ve compiled with the assistance of Vaguelytruepedia.com.

  Milk

  Velcro

  MDF

  Lint

  Cubic Zirconium

  Fibreglass

  Tupperware

  Meat

  Lego

  Nectar Points

  Key Ring


  Cheese

  Socks

  Oregano

  Meccano

  Garage Flowers

  Tattoo

  A Nice Cardigan

  Phone Credit

  Bodyshop Stuff

  Gin

  Earth, Wind and Fire

  Cash

  Penguin Adoption Certificate

  Silver

  Disney

  Petrol

  Polyester

  Kryptonite

  2–4–1 Gift Token to Alton Towers

  Peat

  Just a Card

  Cinzano

  Beige

  Andrew Lloyd-Webber

  Laser Eye Surgery

  Buck-A-Roo

  Scalextric

  Plasticene

  Ruby

  Bubblewrap

  A surprise

  DVD Box Set

  Daniel O’Donnell CD

  Jigsaw Puzzle

  Batteries

  iPhone

  Tattoo Removal

  Ovaltine

  Gold

  Wedding anniversaries can be difficult occasions. To celebrate one properly can take weeks of preparation and years of being married to someone. Of course, even the most meticulous preparation can’t guarantee that everything will run smoothly. One tiny thing can still ruin the occasion – generally the husband. Even my own marriage, perfect though it is, has suffered the occasional hiccup.

  One year, I decided to give Stephen a big anniversary surprise. I constructed a huge cake, reminiscent of the one we had for our wedding – only this time it would contain me and not a stripper. It was a monumental creation, standing fully six feet high. It took weeks to make, using eight metres of marzipan, 12 bowls of icing, plus a fair bit of cardboard and several steel joists (more than I usually use when baking a cake, at any rate). Despite its great size I managed to conceal it from Stephen by hiding it somewhere I knew he would never look – the kitchen.

  Finally, on the day of our anniversary, after sending Stephen to the corner shop for a pint of milk, I wheeled it out into the living room and carefully climbed inside, ready to leap out and surprise him when he returned. As an extra romantic touch I had also put on my wedding dress (which, I’m proud to say, still fits perfectly – partly due to my having been eight months pregnant with Stephen Junior at the time). And so, with all the preparations in place, I crouched down in the dark, breathing as quietly as I could, and waited.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  What happened next is best illustrated by an extract from my diary…

  Wednesday

  I woke with a start. I’d been having that dream about being buried alive, only this time it was me, not Stephen, so I was sweating and shaking. I blinked. It was pitch black. Where was I? What was that scratching sound? Had I really been buried alive? My mind did somersaults until at last I remembered. I was sitting in my wedding dress inside a giant cake. Obviously. I must have fallen asleep. What time was it? I twisted my arm awkwardly and pressed the light button on the Thomas the Tank Engine digital watch Stephen bought me for our last anniversary. 3:28am.

  I froze. There was that scratching sound again. Only louder this time. And accompanied by some sort of strange humming. Then it stopped. Then there was the sound of something metal falling onto stone. Then swearing. Then the scratching sound again. And finally a key being rammed into the lock and turning. The doorknob rattled for several minutes – I keep telling him to fix that – before finally, heavy feet fell through the door.

  ‘Surprise.’

  Stephen stared blankly at me, standing in a giant cake, jam stains on my face, crumbs down my lace dress and hands on my hips.

  After what seemed like an eternity, a broad grin flashed across his face and he held out a half-empty carton of milk.

  ‘Surprise!’ he replied, before collapsing onto the sofa.

  I glared in silence at his giggling, disheveled form. I suppose it was my fault for giving him my purse. I should have known he would take it straight to the Dog & Duck, and then – judging by the robot dance he was now attempting to recreate – on to that stupid sci-fi-theme nightclub, Outer Space. I sighed. There was no talking to him when he was like this. And so, I resorted to the only language he understands after 15 Lime and Kiwi Bacardi Breezers…Karaoke.

  ‘I felt I was a fraud – I was petrified,

  Kept thinking I could never eat without you, Stephen Fry.

  But then I cooked so many meals

  While you were boozing down the pub,

  And I grew cross,

  And now I couldn’t give a toss.

  And so you’re back

  From Outer Space,

  With your trousers round your ankles and that daft look

  upon your face.

  I shouldn’t have worn this stupid frock,

  I should have sat and watched TV,

  If I had known for just one second,

  you’d be back at half past three.

  Go on now, go! Walk out the door!

  Just turn the knob hard,

  ’Cause it’s not working any more.

  Weren’t you the one who had the gall to criticise?

  Did you eat my crumble?

  Did you eat my peach and tuna pie?

  No more, not I,

  I will serve five!

  Oh, as long as I know how to cook,

  I know they’ll stay alive.

  I’ve got all our kids to feed,

  And I’ve got all the Spam I need,

  And I’ll serve five,

  I will serve five…or is it six?

  It takes all the strength I have,

  Not to stand and rant,

  Or stuff this ham and lemon pizza down your underpants.

  And I spent oh so many nights,

  Just eating dinner by myself.

  I used to sob,

  Instead of cutting off your…privileges.

  And you see me?

  I’m over here.

  I’m not that hat stand in the corner,

  You’ve had too much beer.

  And so you felt like crawling home

  And just expect me to be free.

  Now I’m saving all my cooking for someone

  who’ll eat their tea!

  Go on now, go!’

  And so he went…

  In the plant pot. And the sink. And the wardrobe.

  And I went straight to bed, dabbing my streaming mascara with my marzipan-covered veil.

  Thursday

  I can never stay angry with Stephen for long. No matter what he’s done, somehow he always manages to come up with that romantic gesture that melts my heart and reminds me why I married him all those years ago. This morning, when I slammed the fridge door after replacing the milk for my morning cup of tea, I saw them. 13 randomly-coloured magnetic letters, spelling out the words YOU COMPLETE ME. My body flooded immediately with warm, tingling emotion and helplessly, I rushed upstairs to give him a huge kiss. After I’d finished my cup of tea.

  Friday

  Found two magnetic letter S’s on the kitchen floor. Must have fallen off when I slammed the fridge door. Oh well.

  BIRTHDAYS

  Birthdays can be a joyous occasion – for a child. But a child’s birthday party can be a highly stressful and exhausting event for the parents, especially if you choose to host it in your own home. Your house can be like a cross between London Zoo and a Monster Truck Rally with screaming kids chasing about, flinging food and throwing up all over the place but you still need to get it ready for the party. There are balloons to blow up, banners to hang and a cake to bake. On top of that, you need to plan party games, buy prizes and send out invitations. Food-wise, you can’t go wrong with the old favourites – crisps, sausage rolls, jelly and ice cream, fizzy pop and a large bucket.

  In addition, some parents choose to book a children’s entertainer
. We normally have Les – he’s great with the kids. He paints their faces, performs magic tricks and even puts on a little puppet show. It really takes the pressure off us as, within half an hour, most of the guests have run home screaming and we can enjoy a relatively peaceful party. Then all you have to worry about is waiting for the parents to pick up the remaining children. Inevitably, there will always be one flustered mother or father who turns up half an hour late full of apologies but don’t worry – if you’re lucky, they’ll take one of yours by mistake.

  Fortunately, these days there are many alternatives to the home party – if it’s your daughter’s birthday you could opt for a catwalk party, where she and her friends can spend a delightful couple of hours in the latest fashions, taking it in turns to walk a cat. Your son, on the other hand, may prefer something more energetic, like Laser Quest or inner-city rioting. And of course, there’s always the easy option – a visit to the local cinema. This can be a relatively inexpensive and stress-free way to spend a few hours before returning home to see what kind of mess all those children have been making at the party.

  CHRISTMAS

  Christmas is one of the most stressful times a couple can experience, second only to moving house and the honeymoon. More marriages break up over the festive period than at any other time. For this reason, my advice would be, just relax and enjoy it, dears. However, if you insist on keeping your marriage intact here are a few tried and trusted tips to help you survive Christmas.

  Father Christmas

  This is the big one, dears. Eventually, no matter what you do, your children will inevitably reach that difficult age – the age when they start to believe in Father Christmas (or Santa Claus, as our charming American cousins call him). Despite your best efforts to deny his existence, there will always be some smart Alec school friend who insists on ruining it for everyone by telling them Father Christmas exists. Millions of weak parents find themselves succumbing to social pressure and end up spending a small fortune on presents to appease their little ones. I’m ashamed to say that even we have fallen foul of this scurrilous conspiracy, sometimes spending upwards of £30 on gifts – which equates to very nearly £5 per child.