Thursday, November 1, 2012

Our anniversary, despite Versiera

Last weekend saw the eleventh anniversary of the day I wedded cabbage.
Eleventh, so please excuse the crappy photo quality. I actually had to take photos of the photos, as our wedding was pre digital photography and I don’t know how to use my scanner.
Does anyone scan stuff anymore?

Check out The Teen. So adorable. *Sob

According to the gift directory at the newsagent, Eleventh year anniversary gifts should be steel, and I awoke on the morning of my anniversary to this present.


Also instructions to squeeze his tezzies.

He is romantic like that.
I was reminded of why I married him later that day however, when he presented me with this.

A tiny working steel harmonica charm. As far as presents go, this couldn’t have been more perfect.
He knows me like no one else does,  I have not taken it off.

Cabbage and I used to take turns in surprising each other on our anniversary, a weekend away here and a romantic dinner there, this year was cabbages turn, but limited cash flow meant that celebrating this year would mean no weekend away.

This year, after FINALLY scoring a reservation at our favourite restaurant, it was time to get ready to drop the kids off at the babysitters and ahead of us was an evening of eating a meal whilst it is not of ideal salmonella breeding temperature, with little to no interruption, actual adult conversation and the ever growing anticipation that I might actually fart in front of my husband this year.

All we had to do was pack a bag for the kids, find clean clothes to put in the bags, three different bags, because our kids cannot share a single fucking thing, bath the kids so that our babysitters think that we regularly bathe our kids, get ready ourselves involving a shower, hair straightener, make up (not cabbage, But you know what I mean) fill the car up, give several best behaviour warnings, feed the menagerie, drive for an hour and a half, …

Cabbage and I looked at each other, and we knew.
Neither of us really wanted to go anywhere.  So we cancelled the reservation and baby sitter. Put the kids to bed early, ordered  very spicy take away and sat through three awesome nineties movies in a row, snuggled on the lounge, with wine, chocolate and caramel popcorn, we went through the camera roll of our old phones and it could not have been more spontaneously romantic.

Eleventh anniversary love is lazy, comfortable, delicious and spent surrounded in the produce of our eleven year marriage.

I Love this man everyday.

He makes me LAUGH. LAUGH I tell you.

Would you like an iced Vulva?

He is an awesome dad, and not in a fathers day card way. In a REALLY GREAT DAD kind of way. There is not a greater gesture a man can do than to give your children that gift.

I love him because, when I am hard work, he kicks me out for a weekend with my besties

I love him because, He stopped rolling his eyes if I referred to people by their blog name, joined twitter and became a fully fledged member of the bloggersphere, just so that I had someone to talk to about blogging stuff.

I love him because he has made some very real friends whom he adores there, and he loves the people I love and he gets it now. Not only does he now talks to me in blog names, but he refers to these people as his ladies.

He even dared venture into the secret world of DPCON,, where he sat through hours of talk about stats, SEO , source codes, html, and endorsement.
He sat with me in the dark while blogs were read, then women he didn't know spontaneously burst into tears around him and he only got up to fetch more tissues.
He did this because I love it and I was a dickhead, and too chicken shit to go alone.

He did this even after the shit bit, despite of the shit bit and for the shit bit, for better or worse, in good health and bad.

Eleven years is being able to look each other in the eye and know that neither of us wanted to go out without having to day it aloud.

It was perfect.

Happy anniversary Cabbage.
I love being able to say we told them so with you.

Emma xx

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