Larry and I woke up this morning, as usual. He went to the gym and came home. I got the kids breakfast. I went to the gym. He got the kids off to school. At some point during my run, I wondered about the date. What is the date. What day in June is this? June...June...3. What day is that?OMG.
I came home in a flurry and as soon as I saw Larry, I said, "Happy Anniversary!" He got that same, "Oh, sh*t" look on his face. "I'm sorry," he said, and he really meant it. But we both forgot.
Eight years ago, we stood under this mounted buffalo head in Spearfish, South Dakota, and got married. We smoked cigars late that night, and the next day we went hiking.
That was one mortgage and two kids ago.
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Take it from one who was there, you guys haven't aged too badly.
And God bless that minister or whatever he was. I had a gin & tonic stowed on a mantle. Ice didn't even have time to melt before that wedding as a done deal.
Thow in a Catholic priest and a High Requiem and we'd still be there.
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