At 11:00 am on November 12, 2000, I married my Better Half. Since then, we’ve run the gamut of the traditional wedding vows: job layoffs, quitting abusive employers, stressed and angry, misunderstood, and just plain crazy (well, me at least on the last one). But for all the parts that were worse, sicker, and poorer, the parts that were better, richer, and healthier have outweighed them in the end.
I hope we have eight times eight more anniversaries, dear V. May every silly thing that’s ever made us laugh like idiots continue to amuse us both: hot chicken, it comes in pints, looks like meat’s back on the menu boys, which it’s supper, he vas my BOYFRIEND, there’s something wrong with this cheese, baconbaconbacon (I can’t read!), and every bad Monty Python joke known to man. Even the dachshund joke and the ones about hot dogs and cheese. Yes, even those.
We both get bummed out, both lose track of taking care of ourselves so we can take care of the other, but we’ve made it so far. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. And that you’ve put up with me on my roller coaster? Well, Better Half says it all. No one makes me laugh like you do. And it’s very clear… our love is here to stay. You’re the love of my life, monkey bear. Happy anniversary.