It is with sincere ambivalence that I re-pledge my love and commitment to you today, four contiguous years after we first said: “I do.”
You’re my best friend, confidant, and person who takes out the trash only if I ask. Together we have created a family of four, and remember when we were thinking five? God.
We’re here today, outdoors — even though it’s 90 degrees in the shade and someone insisted on formalwear — and our union is stronger than ever. Our hearts beat as one. Sometimes, they literally beat as one no matter how many times I elbow you off my pillow so I can get airflow to my face.
Even so, I still love you more than words can say. Which explains why sometimes when you ask me why I’m “making the lecture face again,” I don’t say any words at all until I’m at the wine bar with my girlfriends on Wednesday nights at 7:30 PM, sharp.
As we now know, a loving relationship does not exist in a vacuum. Nor does a dusty room vacuum itself. All the same, I’d be happier to do all of the vacuuming if you could just round up the trash from upstairs rather than take what’s in the main receptacle out to the curb on Tuesdays.
Our friends first showed us how to love, helped us grow, and hooked us up on a pretty mediocre trivia night. I hope they will continue to support us because I’m sure when we bicker over who left the permanent marker in front of our toddler, it can get awkward.
I solemnly swear to try to block out how loudly you chew. It’s so incomprehensibly loud and yet so insufficient for how much you put in there at once. Not to put too fine a point on it, sometimes I wonder if your throat will split clean open at your Adam’s apple.
In you, I have found comfort, joy, and at least 5–6 ticks after the Family Fun Hikes you have a way of suggesting right at the baby’s nap time.
I continue to promise to honor you, to comfort you, and to not call out your bush league bullshit when you ask for a back rub…