1. Because he asked me. I was 21. He was 34. I was raised to think that older people knew better.
2. Because he’s actually a fabulous father, despite prescribing to the Homer Simpson’s School of Parenting.
3. Because he’s big and burly and tall. I realised how important this was as I was watching his change 5 out of the 12 spotlights in my kitchen ceiling. There’s no way I can do that myself. There are pressing contingency plans to be made should Slaveboy ever be unavailable to carry out this task.
4. Because he’s the most tolerant and non-judgemental man I know. In his own, unique, straight talking way, that is.
5. Because he’s big and burly and menacing looking. We never get hassled by Cat’s Protection Society reps (insert whatever charity organisation here) punting for donations on the High Street.
6. Because he has never laughed at me for believing that hippos do do synchronised swimming. You must have seen those BBC short clips? They’re freakily realistic.
7.Because I am chicken shit and I like watching horror films and he doesn’t mind keeping me company through most of them, even the lame ones. He did have to have a word about me letting the children watch Poltergeist. I swear Izzy The Rockstar already had night terrors long before he watched Nightmare On Elm Street.
8. Because he has the physique of an old school World Wrestling Federation’s wrestler. Broad shoulders, a prosperity cat’s paunch and freckles. Oh, and the hair metal locks.
9. Because he likes me and he doesn’t like many things.
10. Because he’ll just follow me everywhere. Them Stephens boys are bloody persistent. I like a quiet life.