By: Amy Mowafi

Amy Mowafi on the trials and tribulations of trapping your man…

On occasion, The Boy's face will fleetingly contort into an expression I can only assume is reflective of his deep-seated suspicions that we occupy the same planet only by name. But most of the time he's wonderfully adept at acclimatising himself to my neurosis. He ever-so-sweetly resigns himself to the fact that I'm on a mission to find any and all faults in our blossoming relationship, and loafs casually and quite comfortably around my ludicrous remarks and paranoid commentary. "Honey," he'll say, all calmness and sanity, "Go sell crazy somewhere else."

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