Ask any one of my friends to list a few of my skills, and after thinking for a few silent minutes, they might name a few, but man-picking and cooking won’t make the list. Thankfully, we can skip discussion over the latter today, but we should discuss the former, since it’s my anniversary.
We’ve been married three years. We’ve been together three years and eighteen days. The math breaks down pretty easily on this one. There are no number to carry over to the next column and there aren’t any numbers exceeding double digits.
3-the number of years we’ve been husband and wife
8-the number of DAYS we spent as boyfriend and girlfriend
10-the number of DAYS as fiance and fiance
This could easily have been a funny story about that one time I started dating a guy, got married in Vegas, and got it annulled, all in the span of three weeks. The only thing that’s kept that story from becoming a reality is that for once in my entire dating career, my man-picking skills manned up. That and the small fact that my husband is a good man, a great friend and a fantastic partner (except for that time he elbowed me in the face while I was sleeping). I’ll write that in small print in his Hallmark card today, but I don’t like to say it out loud too often (just kidding, I tell him every day that I’m a lucky gal).
One of my goals this year is to outwardly show my appreciation. Harv regularly does the dishes, without any nagging on my part. I usually mutter under my breath, “Thank God this one isn’t a loser,” but I rarely stop to thank him out loud. He’s my Holy Trinity of Relationship Success- I like him, I love him and I’m in love with him. I hope he knows that.
