Viking

You can be in a relationship for a long time and still learn new things about your partner over the years. Shocking things, even. 

For instance, I learned that the love of my life is 8% Viking. Huh? Didn’t see that coming.

Science doesn’t lie and neither do saliva DNA tests mailed off to Ireland, where a proper report reveals your genetic family tree. 

Apparently, I bought this neat little experiment for my husband for Christmas. Wasn’t that thoughtful of me? So thoughtful, I didn’t even know. Fortunately, it went on his Visa. So all things considered, I nailed Christmas gift-giving this year and didn’t even pay for it. I am that good.

This DNA stuff is fascinating, though I’m not sure this kind of detailed information is safe in my partner’s hands. If you thought his Anglo-Saxon ego was big before, what with his Arsenal football obsession and love of Yorkshire pudding, let me introduce you to the gruff ancestor of Ragnar Lothbrok. 

I mean, he’s probably not a direct descendant, but I dare you to tell him that. Funny thing about ancestry: everybody wants to be a descendent of a king but are more likely genetically linked to Harold, the guy who mucked barn stalls. Harold was a good, hardworking man, no question, but he didn’t pillage English towns on funny boats, so, yeah, Harold’s place in history is less known. I see you, Harold. 

The Carpenter and I have watched all seasons of the show Vikings on Netflix, so we are fully educated on fictional history.  I’m starting to see some striking similarities between my guy and Ragnar. Surely Ragnar was a Leo too. So bossy. Always right. Has to be in charge. Never picks up his own laundry. Bit of a slob, really. Yep.

Does this make me Lagertha, a fierce queen who captured Ragnar’s heart? She was a fierce, fearless shield-maiden. She could handle anything and anyone. That’s totally me. I’m fierce too, unless there is a spider in the bathroom, then it’s full-on cowardice. 

I’m a warrior though. I assure you I am tougher than I look. To his credit, my Carpenter Ragnar knows it and champions me in every battle too.  Kelly means warrior in Gaelic. Me and Lagertha, rocking braids and wielding swords (nobody would ever hand me a sword. Rightly so).

The Carpenter and I have begun the Netflix spin-off, Vikings: Valhalla. I’m starting to think the Carpenter could be more like the famous Norse explorer, Leif Erikson. He reminds me of the Carpenter in our early days together. Strong, fiercely loyal and quiet but confident. And hot. Good history there. 

The rest of the Carpenter’s genealogy came back as Scottish and English. I teased him that was boring. He was disappointed to learn he had zero Irish blood in his veins, despite stories he’d been told in his youth (don’t worry, kids, momma has you covered there. Your awesome Irish heritage comes from my side). 

That 8% Viking blood sure has made binge-watching fictional history a lot more interesting. 

I’ve not said anything about how it all ends for the Vikings. Harold knows.

Vikings, 8% hot. 

Just sayin’.

WriteOut of Her Mind