Me and Rashid are married for six years now, we've had met twelve years ago. We had our share of life together, studied and worked abroad for many years.
This ramadan is our first in Kuwait, to him everything seems to be a maze, the places we used to date in are not there anymore or with a total different look. Now that I'm here invitations are crowded in the drawer next to his bed side, a way to help each other remind each other with our social obligations. It has been more than 7 years since the last time we experienced Ramadan in Kuwait, I have to admit its lovely to be home, I remember our Ramadan abroad; we used to be in bed after eftar and wake up with the morning prayer.
The other night he had iftar with his friends and I had mine with my family, that night we had no chance to meet or talk at all- a girl had to do what she got to do before showing up at a ghabga.
The Ghabga was great, I enjoyed the religious atmosphere in Ghabgas, better than the old way of eating all night then leave. After the long night, my friends and I noticed that it's already 3:30 in the morning and we are not home yet. Then I realized, I forgot to tell Rashid about this invitation.
I arrived home around four in the morning, poor Rashid was waiting at the door, he was worried that a heart attack would've reached him (lasama7 allah) anytime that night. Once he saw me, he hugged me tight with his shaky body just to feel a strange warmth between us.
My poor husband peed himself, I couldn't stop the laughter.. Poor thing he was embarrassed...
What would you do in such situations?
I know if he was another person he would've killed me, but it was so damn funny.