HABBs? You know, the term for husbands and boyfriends of bloggers. Obviously. I know you lot exist. I’ve seen you comparing trials and tribulations with Jay. Today’s post is something a little different and is inspired by a recent debrief my Mr had with one of my blogger friend’s boyfriend. I’ll let Jay explain all. Perhaps some of you will be able to relate…
08:00: I sense her slip out of bed, but it’s a Saturday so I roll over to enjoy a few more Zs.
0930: I find her in the kitchen, sat at the table. She’s not eating breakfast, but tapping away at the keyboard. She cradles a cup of green tea as she tells me she’s managed to update a blog page, reply to her latest comments and to schedule some social media stuff – all whilst I’ve been asleep. Noticing her eager eyes and proud smile, I realise that I’m supposed to be impressed, so I reward her with a pleasantly surprised expression (or at least I hope that’s the look I’ve pulled off), before pulling her in for a big hug (which cleverly negates me needing to work out how to maintain my newfound expression).
0945: As I whip up a Mexican breakfast of huevos rancheros she hovers round me excitedly taking five photos of every stage of the recipe. Apparently one of our staple Saturday morning meals (okay, I may be exaggerating) will make an a-maz-ing blog post. #SundayServed she calls it. Thankfully she doesn’t say ‘hashtag’ out loud. *shudder*
1030: Twenty minutes later than usual we sit down to enjoy the food, but not before snapping an aerial Instagram shot.
1200: We’re showered and spruced up, ready for a day out of…wait for it…camera shopping. I tried to argue against it, but she whimpered something about it being a critical bit of equipment. I give in and admit defeat and that’s how we wind up in a pokey store on a sunny afternoon. It stocks the last Panasonic Lumix GX7 available in Northamptonshire, so of course we have to get it.
1400: We stop off for lunch at a local cafe that she’s heard is the newest and most adorable one in town. She takes obligatory snaps on her iPhone, whilst spieling the specification of her new camera and how it will make her pictures soooo much better. ‘Yada, yada…’ replies my stomach.
1530: Back home we have time to charge the new camera and for a quick outfit change. I say quick, but she changes three times.
1630: We’re on the train down to London. She replies to a few Tweets whilst I chill out with a cup of coffee.
1800: We step off the tube and climb the steps to daylight. The camera and phone are whipped out as though she’s a cowboy in some Western film. She shoots pictures like her life depends on it. We browse the eclectic foodie stalls at South Bank, doing a full recce before going in for the kill. Whilst I stand in line she gets chatting to the stall owners, casually interviewing them without them even noticing.
1930: After the obligatory close-up food snaps, we scoff our food and head over to Waterloo station to be picked up by the PR contact for tonight’s event.
1945: We can’t miss them. There’s not one PR person, but three. Plus, a photographer and a model. Wow! This is a full blown publicity event. I’m surprised and proud in equal measures. I’m shocked at how many people are needed for one event and proud of how my travel blogger of a wife really is making her passion into something that’s valued.
2030: We skipped the huge line to get into this place. We’re now sipping free cocktails from our private booth. I sit back and relax with a smile on my face, my thoughts about blogging being a pain in the neck long gone…until the following morning when she’s expecting me to proof read her write-up and simultaneously deal with my lethal hangover.
Are you a HABB or are you a blogger? I’d love to hear of your experiences. Please tell me it’s not just me! X