I spend a lot of time wondering how I got so lucky as to marry this person. And why the heck she still puts up with me after 17 years.
What is it that makes two people perfect for each other? Maybe that they both think getting married on the steps of a little courthouse at 7,000 feet in August is a fine idea. Maybe because they both get all excited when they see a little free library that’s a duplicate of the courthouse. Possibly it’s because lying in the courthouse grass on a warm summer day after a long hike seems as close to heaven as you need to get. Or because they both know her idea of a fine anniversary celebration is quietly painting a chihuahua. Never underestimate the power of oil paint fumes.
I don’t know. All I know is it’s been almost a couple of decades and I still can’t wait to see her every time she’s away, and I can’t imagine ever being without her. Even if it meant I would get to eat all the Klondike bars currently in the freezer.
Actually, she’s not home for a few hours. I CAN eat all the Klondike bars in the freezer.
Oh, well. It was a wonderful 17 years …