I have finally met my soul mate, the only awkward aspect is that I am married to his father

After spending years swiping on Tinder and Bumble and selling used appliances on Buy and Sell in an attempt to meet someone, I have my kind of dream.

Yes, I have finally met my soulmate; the only awkward aspect is that i am married to his father.

Fortunately, Darling Husband is a very close second, and we’ve all come to accept that there are officially three of us in this marriage.

I forever vowed never to be one of those mothers who fell foul of the old Irish trope of mother and son, the matriarch who sees her male offspring as the next Messiah (of course, I mean Justin Bieber).

However, when it comes to accusations of succumbing to the mother-son stereotype, I am guilty of the charge.

Yes, faster than you can affect psychology Star Norman Bates’ delivery of the word “mother,” I am already fully aware that my love for Ted will never be greater.

I’ve always considered myself a bit of a weirdo and I’m more accepting of that as I get older.

This is especially true in relation to comedy, where I have unleashed my inner Rocky Horror Picture Show with varying degrees of success.

I vowed never to be one of those mothers who fell foul of the old Irish trope of mother and child

But since I became a father and Ted was at that age where his personality shines through more and more, I have a new acceptance of being an outsider.

Because Ted’s answer reminds me that it’s okay to be weird, it’s cool even because it means we like each other. And in Ted’s eyes, what’s not to like?

At a bachelorette party recently, I asked the DJ to play a request for the bride-to-be. “I don’t have a microphone,” he said, and I aged about a thousand years with those three simple words.

The days of tacky dance floors might be over, but if Ted has taught me anything, it’s that any floor can be a dance floor if you shake those hips.

In a previous life, I was always ready to fall into that disco-pop beat when a supermarket soundtrack would shift gears and go from playing James Blunt on a loop to suddenly and inexplicably playing Blackstreet’s “No Diggity.” I have always applied the philosophy that life is too short not to dance. As a result, I’ve been chastised on more than one occasion by a colleague (excluding DH, of course) or a friend in the cookie aisle when I suddenly start spinning like no one’s watching.

But now, when I dance in unconventional places, I’m not weird anymore.

Every time I’ve been moved to groove in a freezing section, Ted cheers me on, and I have no doubt his reaction will be the same when I’m showing off my best moves as he oversees his first Junior Cert disco circa 2035.

My job as a comedian is to stand on stage asking strangers to love us.

There’s definitely a “want” in us: Having watched half a season of Grey’s Anatomy, I’m pretty sure that’s an official medical term.

Ted is the best audience because he always laughs at the right time. He still has to jump in with a sympathetic laugh during the montage, inadvertently interrupting the cadence of the comic.

Instead, he has an innate understanding of joke structure and punchline. Am I reading too much into a two-year-old’s response to my “peekaboo” humor?

Of course I am. I’ve lost the race and I’m one step away from campaigning for the voting age to be lowered to two so Ted can have his say in local elections.

One of the things I love most about Ted is his very sensitive soul.

As an absolute Aerobar, when it comes to what strangers think of me, I can only hope that Ted isn’t equally permeable to other people’s thoughts and opinions.

In a world of Cadbury Flakes, I want to help him grow into a robust Yorkie (no longer just for girls since the recent advances towards gender equality).

Although maybe what makes Ted my dream guy is that he refrains from giving me advice while we’re driving (the only time DH and I start Googling overrides is when one of us is cruising ).

Ted has been known to applaud my parallel parking when I reverse with a speed similar to the speed with which Elon Musk tries to reverse legally binding contracts.

The big test for my perfect man will come when he is armed with a cell phone.

Will he answer my calls? Will he text me back?

If my past dealings with West Kerry men are anything to go by, the odds are slim, but something about Ted makes me think he might be the exception.

Yes, at last I have met an Irishman who takes me; all he had to do was do it.

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