“We’ve had 20 years to plan our 20th wedding anniversary! TWENTY years!!! It’s a week away! We have NOTHING!!!”
It was one of those moments when you try to sneak out of the room. My wife seemed just as upset with herself as with me, and since she clearly had this under control … I … would … just … quietly … tip-toe … out … of … the …
“Where are you going?!?”
So close.
“You’re complicit in this, too, buddy. We’re complete anniversary failures.”
“Yeah, I know. I’M SO MAD AT MYSELF! What were we thinking? Oh, well … I guess we’ll just make it up on our 30th. Want to take one of those airplanes that lands on water?”
She looked like she might kill me.
It’s not totally true we didn’t have anything planned. There were reservations for a romantic dinner. We were planning a weekend getaway. And because the appropriate gift for a 20th anniversary is China, I had printed out a map of … China! Pretty crafty, huh?
Plus, there was my secret weapon: My wife’s love language is … yep, you guessed it … words of affirmation. Jackpot, baby! Some people like gifts. For others it’s quality time or physical touch. But my wife just needs a few words to show I care. And lucky me, this fine newspaper gives me like 500 words every week to write about whatever I want. I got words coming out the … well, that’s not very romantic. But anyway …
All I need to do is not waste too much space filling you, the loyal reader, in on why this column is about to take a very romantic turn and … OMG! I’ve already used up like 300 words! I’m running out of …
Focus, Brian! Be genuine. Be authentic and original: “How I love thee. Let me count the …”
No, no. Authentic. From the heart. Like think back to the day you were married. That wonderful, incredible, amazing day. Our wedding took place downtown at the historic Llambias House. Our vows were right in front of the little barn-like building, and I’ll never forget a raccoon walked by. I took it as a good sign. I don’t know why.
And my wife. Well, she was just spectacular. Radiant. Like she floated down from heaven. I felt like I could be her doorman, but certainly not her husband. I flip through photos of us that day, and I look like a little boy who had no idea what he was doing. How did I convince this gem of a woman to marry me?
And to stick with me for 20 years? Through thick and thin. And 20 years later, there’s still no one I want to spend even a fraction of my time with more than her. How was I lucky enough to find someone like this?
Maybe we are terrible anniversary planners. Eh, so be it. If that’s one of our relationships’ biggest problems, I’ll take it.
Plus, I’ve got this whole column and that’s a huge opportunity to say … oh crud, out of words …