I know you are all just dying to know how McH and I celebrated our 12th anniversary. Just. dying!
(Just play along, okay?)
So I actually started the celebration the night before by sneaking out to his car and leaving an anniversary card on the driver’s seat for him to find in the morning as he left for work. Yes, I am just that romantic.
And, I’ll have you know, I took great care in selecting the card. GREAT CARE. Because greeting cards suck. Really. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find a nice anniversary card (or Valentine’s Day card, or Mother’s Day card, etc.) that doesn’t sound like it was written by some angsty seventh-grader? Nearly impossible.
I’m glad we chose this life together
I hope it will go on forever.
I dream of growing old with you
Because I know our love is true.
The two of us shall never part
Because, my dear, you hold my heart.
And like the dew-kissed, gentle rose,
My love for you just grows and grows.
You know, never mind the fact that roses actually wither and die within days. And NO that was not what the card said. I just pulled that out of . . . wherever one pulls bad poetry out of . . . to illustrate my point. Oh, I could go on and on about crappy greeting card poetry. For example, the next time you are trying to find a nice greeting card, just see if you can read it without hearing it being rapped. That’s right. One day I was reading one hideous greeting card poem after another when, out of nowhere, they all started taking on a rap beat in my mind. PEOPLE! I don’t listen to rap! How do I know what a rap beat sounds like?!? But that is now my ultimate test for greeting card poetry. If I can hear it in rap, it’s out.
Anyway . . . I put a card in his car. That started the day.
Then . . . I began making my brother’s wedding cake. I soon realized I was out of oil so, after the baby took his unusually long nap, the kids and I went to Wal Mart and bought oil. And I bought new sheets for my bed. AT WAL MART! BECAUSE THERE IS NOWHERE ELSE WITHIN A REASONABLE DISTANCE TO SHOP FOR THESE THINGS!!!
When McH came home from work he walked through the door with a dozen roses and some salmon to throw on the grill. Awwwww . . .
I kept working on the wedding cake. Because PEOPLE! Wedding cakes are all. day. affairs. Unless they are teeny tiny and feed only ten people.
If you happen to drop a layer of the cake, say, into the sink? The all day affair then becomes an all evening affair as well. Because it means you have to send your husband back to Wal Mart for more carrot cake mixes (what self-respecting woman has extra cake mix in the house that isn’t chocolate?) and start all over on that layer.
Once the cake was done and decorated, we continued the festivities by gathering together all of the other things we were taking to the reception the next day (gift, punch bowl, gooshy music CDs, etc.) and making sure it was all ready to be grabbed and loaded into the truck first thing the next morning.
By the time the cake was done, the extras were gathered, the outfits for the kidlets were picked out, etc., it was Late.
So we went to bed. Ahem. Because we had to get up early the next day (the next day being a Saturday, when nobody likes to get up early) so that we could leave early enough to arrive at the reception site, two hours away, in time to help set up before guests arrived.
Have you ever driven for two hours with a wedding cake in your vehicle? Have you ever driven two minutes with a wedding cake in your vehicle? NOT FUN.
Actually, McH started out driving, but he pulled over so we could switch after the first stop sign. This wouldn’t be because I’m a back seat driver or anything. It would just be because I have a better understanding of Newton’s laws of motion and how important it is, when you have a wedding cake in the back of your vehicle, to begin slowing down for the stop sign much, much, much earlier than you normally would.
So, there you have it, all the glorious details of our 12th wedding anniversary. Who says old married people don’t know how to have fun?
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt hopes you’re having fun.