Last Friday, I painted the kitchen. I had decided I was not thrilled with the color I had chosen three years ago when we bought this house and wanted something else. I sort of mentioned in passing that I wanted to paint the kitchen to Ty and took his affirmative grunt as tacit agreement. When I painted a whole wall (to check the color) on Thursday evening he got a little miffed with me. He felt, quite correctly, that I hadn't consulted him. I just hadn't thought he would care. Luckily my color choice was spot on and the kitchen is much more lovely than previously, so he forgave me. Saturday was our 12th anniversary. We are not good at anniversaries, things always seem to go wrong, (and we couldn't find a sitter) so we played it safe and stuck close to home. Take -out and a dvd are not what I had in mind as a romantic evening when my much younger self pictured future important evenings together. But we have been to all those places, fancy restaurants and concerts, candlelight and roses, and while I can't say I don't adore all of those things, they don't make the evening. Him being there, with me, is all that I care about. He, of the obvious joke and the surreal comment. He, who thinks I'm smart and pretty, even when pregnant. He who always lets me go my own way and supports me even when I take a wrong turn. We aren't super demonstrative in public (He still blushes when I kiss him with anyone watching) so maybe you weren't aware of the fairy tale love that lives in our house. I guess I am living my happily ever after. Lucky me.
3 years ago