Fourteen

Fourteen years and two hours ago, I married the boy I fell for my senior year of high school. We’ve had such a wacky schedule that our best bet on an anniversary date was this morning. So, we hired a babysitter and spent a Thursday morning at the art museum and then hit a fantastic lunch spot. (Chauhan Ale and Masala House deserves a mention, because it was delicious. I hear lunch is actually the time to go; dinner gets a lot pricier.) As dates go, it was a little weird and a lot fun.

So much has happened in fourteen years. We’re both pretty different people than we were when we started this adventure. We’ve had some tough times in there, even in this past year. But you know, I can honestly say these 14 years have been good, not because life has been perfect, but because I have shared them with someone who really gets me and who somehow makes it all a lot more fun. Marriage demands a lot of us, but when you boil it down, I’m pretty sure that’s what everybody hopes for.

So, here’s to fourteen more good years. I’m okay with growing old, as long as it happens with him.

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Jon says he looks like a guy whose wife made him take a selfie, which is, in fact, exactly what happened.

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