It is 1973 and the Missus is a small girl fascinated by the Ancient Egyptians and she desperately wants to see the Tutankhamum exhibition that has just opened in London. But she doesn't get to go...Fast-forward 35 years and myself and the Missus are walking into the O2 Arena with the tickets I secretly bought her for Xmas ready to see the recently returned exhibition. Even better it's a well-organised, well laid-out and really well thought-out exhibition. The audio guide is also an invaluable tool is learning more about what's what...
As usual with me and exhibitions I speed through and only take real time on what interests me, meaning I spend five or ten minutes at the exit of each room waiting for the Missus to catch up. But this is a regular routine between the two of us and, as usual, I spend this time reading a book or browsing through the latest copy of whatever magazine I happen to be carrying.
But today I also spend this time watching my wife as she takes in the various artifacts on display. I enjoy watching the delight on her face as she finds something else that fascinates her. Her eyes light up. Her joy is a tangible thing.
Today the little girl in my sometimes stroppy and sometimes sarcastic wife comes bubbling to the surface as she takes in each new find.
Today she's really happy. Today I won't be an idiot. For a while.
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