Recently, the husband and I celebrated our thirteenth wedding anniversary. In honor of the event we got a babysitter and treated ourselves to a date night that was looong overdue. A fun time was had by all, or so I thought. During the drive home the hubby turns to me and asks, "Do you know what the best thing about tonight was?"
"We only had to spend $19. of our own money because of those gift cards we had."
Be still my beating heart.
"You're lucky you married me, you know." I tease, "Most women expect expensive gifts for their anniversary."
"Most people don't celebrate their anniversary." He counters.
"Yes, I know. And that's why the divorce rate is so high." I say this solemnly, as if I am imparting the secret of life to him.
Do I really believe that if a couple would only go out to dinner every once in awhile there would be no more divorces? Nope. But, I do believe that people need to take some time out every now and then to celebrate themselves.
We may have wined and dined at rock bottom prices courtesy of some gift cards we had stashed away, but what we were really doing was celebrating.
Celebrating the endless parade of pets. Misty the cat, who was with us from the very beginning and whom we had to say goodbye to this year, the two dogs, an orphaned baby raccoon we took turns feeding with a medicine dropper, the box turtle that went on a hunger strike the minute our son brought him home, a tree frog that lived in a box in our laundry room for about a week, and too many fish to count although they all had names. Where we've all called home has changed over the past 13 years. From a one bedroom apartment to the first house we ever owned to the place we call home now it's been quite a ride.
We've experienced life's ups and downs as any longtime married couple has. Time needs to be carved out of a busy schedule to celebrate it all. Like the years that infertility seemed destined to break us, but we muddled through and came out on the other end wiser, stronger and a family of three. Here's to a lifetime of agreeing to disagree over the best way to load a dishwasher. Let's commemorate one more year of overlooking the fact that he never gives me my messages and I leave my shoes laying where ever I kick them off at.
Life is more interesting thanks to plans that go awry. All those camping trips with unseasonably low temperatures and we were icicles in our sleeping bags, when raccoons tore through our site leaving it looking like a frat house the day after a kegger, or the trip to Niagra Falls where I left my purse with all of our money hanging off the back of a chair in a restaurant in Buffalo, should be remembered fondly. Everyone needs a good story to tell and we have plenty. Mostly thanks to me. But we're still here, reveling in it together and that's an accomplishment worthy of celebration.