When Don had hair and I was slim and pretty. :)
Thirteen years ago this morning, I married this handsome guy. Thirteen years on, I love him to bits. We've had our fights and our prickly moments, our insecurities, moments of doubt (okay, that
He makes me laugh. He thanks me for the little things. He's passionate about politics. He remembered the story I told him about my newlywed parents, and when he gave me an engagement ring there was also a polaroid of the two kittens that would be ours. He likes my cooking. He's smart, so very much smarter than I am. He thinks other guys see me through his eyes. He thinks Ghostbusters is a Christmas movie. He is an amazing writer. He introduced me to comic books. He kicks ass at improv. He's told me I'm a better stage combtant than him. He's the one who suggested we take in wee Zinda, our bottle reared kitty. He's the one who knew we had to adopt Esme. He's the one who realized we couldn't watch Handsome Tom weather the bitter winter, that HT was coming - and staying - inside. He has a sweet and generous heart. He understands that I never need to, nor will I, listen to the Boil Joke again. EVER.
He's a good partner, the best of friends, an excellent husband, and the man who fills my heart with so much joy I wonder how I can hold it all.
He's my sweetie, and I love him so very much.
Happy Anniversary, love!