My third wedding anniversary is today! Oh man. Three years, can you believe it? Time flies. It seems just like yesterday Megan and I got hitched at the Coeur d’Alene Kroc Center and rode off together on a moped scooter.
“Don’t crash,” she said.
To celebrate lucky number 1095 (in days), we’re biking the Hiawatha Trail, grabbing dinner in the bustling metropolis of Wallace, Idaho, and—if time allows—seeing a show at the Sixth Street Melodrama.
Broke, jobless, and parent-in-law basement squatters (we’re “basement people” now), we decided to forgo anniversary gifts this year. But shhh, don’t tell her. I’m surprising her still: in two weeks, we’re driving to Rochester, New York where we’ll live for two years.
I love my wife. I do. I love her more each day and each year. We’ve stuck it out. She’s seen the worst of me and has suffered through. I’ve lived through her macaroni and cheese.
Together, we make a good team—Team Us.
We talk and laugh and fight. We have inside jokes, and words and phrases of words that make no sense; in public settings, I sometimes forgot I shouldn’t use them.
Strong and independent, beautiful and full of grace, my wife is a wonderful woman who I learn from every day. Thanks for the memories, adventures, and stay-in nights.
I’m looking forward to a few more.