Mine is too good to be true.
He's extremely tidy, helps around the house (he has to, I have arthritis) and doesn't complain. I have the remote control, he's not too obsessed with sport (though he puts up with coming in second to FC Barcelona), hardly ever loses his temper, seldom uses bad language, doesn't drink (hates the taste) is very kind, would never do anyone a bad turn. He can't cook, and doesn't have a romantic bone in his body but what good is romance when he can wield a vacuum cleaner and irons his own shirts? I'm a very lucky girl.