You know how bad you feel for that guy who forgets his anniversary and you have a little chuckle that he’s going to be in a panic on the way home trying to buy flowers? I’m that guy. Garreth came home yesterday and snuck into the basement to hide something. I thought nothing of it. Then he started waxing poetic about our marriage. I thought nothing of it. Then he started his favorite game (which I really don’t like) “What were you doing 16 years ago at exactly this time?) Really? At 8:30pm you want me to remember 16 years ago? Finally the lightbulb flickered. Then the apologizing started. Then we both agreed it was totally fine that we weren’t doing anything for our anniversary. That, by the way, would never have floated if he were the one to have forgotten.
This morning I woke up to beautiful sunflowers and yummy baked goods and a lovely card with a mathematical code. Apparently we’ve been married for 5840 days. It’s just been a rough week. (Totally lame excuse). And Garreth isn’t big on celebrations (Waaaay lame.)
This year we’ve had great opportunities to reflect on and re-calibrate our marriage. When we were having a particularly heavy discussion and he was making all sorts of wonderful promises to me, he ended by saying, “pinky swear.” Well, now that you PINKY SWEAR then I suppose we’re really in this thing cause didn’t we learn in kindergarten that’s the most binding thing ever? Our vows were so incomplete without that. So now we have our quiet moments… when he grabs my pinky with his… and I know he loves me.