Another Letter
Dear Husband,
Thank you for buying me flowers when I was sick. I think I take you for granted sometimes, but I don’t mean to. You’re pretty awesome, and I’m sorry I got you sick. I’ll buy you flowers if you want:)
Love,
Your Wife
Charming
Remember Mikayla? If not, click here, you won’t be sorry. Although she may be sorry.
Well, Mikayla and her very well-dressed boyfriend Heath got engaged this Christmas after a courtship that rivals Trent and I’s in length (read: really long). Congrats to both of them, and I’d like to add a big HA HA HA to Mikayla who now is officially attached to the business that Trent and Heath started last year. No more of this “I’m just the girlfriend, you’re the wife” shit.
I like to drag people down to my level, have you noticed.
And thank you, Mrs. Future Stover, for the lovely email you shot me at 8 a.m. yesterday:
“I feel like poo. My head is full of snot. Enjoy your breakfast.”
Your charms never cease to amaze. How you weren’t engaged before this is beyond me. When Lucy is old enough to read this, she’ll be so proud of her godmother.
Christmas Party Cabaroke
Mikayla and I threw a Christmas party for Trent and Heath’s business. The party involved bowling, bar food and beer. When we couldn’t get a cab home, Mikayla found a card for a cab she had used a year or so ago. Turned out the cab was actually “cabaroke.” What is cabaroke, you ask?
I think I need to put that guy’s business card in the shredder…
New York on my mind
We spent our holiday weekend in New York with Trent’s family. Yes, all 12 and a half of us. And I’m exhausted. We got home on Sunday, and I still feel like I’ve been sitting on a plane for 3 hours with a toddler. Vacation hangover claims another victim.
The minute we got off our train in the city I leaned over to Trent and said, “You’re going to be so annoyed with me by the end of today.” Why? Because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to shut up about how wonderful the city is and how we could totally live there. Yes, even with our kid and our dog and our piddly little income. People do it all the time. It’s what New York is about, people! Taking the plunge. I think I’m in the minority in this, as most parents I know would rather move to the Ukraine than raise their kids in New York City, but all I could think about was how great it would be to spend a Sunday afternoon in Central Park or to take Lu to the fruit stand on the corner each morning or to send her to a school where a field trip means a trip to the Met or the Museum of Modern Art. And how everyone that I know who lives there is happier there than they’ve ever been.
So now, as I sit at my cube, I keep wishing I could look out the window and see the hi-rise skyline. Nevermind that if I worked in New York, I would be no where near a window office. It’s the dream. Trent promised we could move there if he makes a million dollars at his business or if I make a million dollars. Anyone want to donate?!
Best Laid Plans
Yesterday was Trent and I’s second wedding anniversary. I rang in this glorious occasion with some sort of food poisoning. Trent celebrated by listening to me puke and then complaining about how hard it is to sleep when someone is doing that in the next room. Sorry, babe. My bad.
I had a bunch of ideas of what I would write on our big day, including song lyrics from a song we used to listen to when we were miles and miles away from each other, a myriad of photos from when we were young and insane, or maybe even a haiku. The food poisoning thwarted my plans.
Another idea was that we would both re-write our vows. I was tickled by the hilarity that would ensue, but, as things often do in this family, we both had no time and no vows were written. My lord, how we made it through an entire wedding is beyond me.
So, after at least 30 seconds of deep thought, here are my new, improved and much more realistic vows to my dear, dear husband:
I promise to try not to freak out when I come home and Lucy’s milk is sitting, rotten, on the counter and know that you really did try to make it to the fridge before you left in the morning.
I promise to attempt to close bottles of condiments and drinks by taking the time to screw on the lid, instead of just setting it on top of the bottle.
I promise to always pick up your pants off the dining room floor.
I promise to entertain your visiting parents when you are laying in bed sick.
I promise to never let Lucy see when I’m mad at you.
I promise to always scratch your back in the mornings, even if I’m late.
I promise to take the time to remember why I married you in the first place and appreciate all the things you do to make my life better.
