Twenty seven years ago today, I pledged my troth (whatever the hell that is; I mean, I get trough, I know tooth, I've heard of froth, but troth? I figured I had nothing to lose by pledging something I didn't even think I had one of...) to George. That's a long time, and in all these years, he has never asked to see it, (my troth, that is... much less give it to him), so I'm doing good.
And so are we. He is arrogant, rude, goofy, self-centered, dense as an oak stump, and thoroughly lovable. I asked him, 'When we met, you had money, muscles, hair and a Corvette. What the hell happened to you?' He says, 'You.' How rude.
True, we dated ten years before we married, but that was so he could make those little tune-ups that I requested. I was pretty much squared away perfect, so I just waited for the improvements. Anyway, it turned out okay, and we are still together, mostly because I am so loyal, loving, and attractive.
Seriously, my hubby-love loves me like no one else ever can or ever will. He makes me laugh, and think, and feel interesting and alive. He laughs with me and at me. He makes me crazy and props me up. He is who I want to be with, now, tomorrow, and for the rest of my life.
Happy anniversary, H.
Love, W.
If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus 1 day,
so I never have to live
without you.
--Winnie the Pooh, to Christopher Robin
No comments:
Post a Comment