Twenty-eight

One memory from my youth that I’ve been kicking around is the day after my first date with this one girl in college. We had kinda-sorta met the previous weekend, and then I asked her out on an official date. We went to see Edward Scissorhands. (This was February 1991.) I didn’t know this girl at all well and I wasn’t terribly sure if the date went really well or just nicely enough, but it went well enough that I was hoping there would be another. Luckily, a mutual friend had already sought her out and picked her brain so she (the mutual friend, that is) could assure me that yes, this girl did in fact want another date. Securing a second date was, at that time, quite the accomplishment for me.

Six years and a few months later, we got married. Specifically, on this very date in 1997. Which means that today we are celebrating our 28th wedding anniversary. What are we doing? Errands! Going to the Farmers Market and maybe another produce market and returning some books to the library and dropping by our favorite bakery and then picking up a prescription or two, and then coming home to do laundry and walk dogs and later on we’ll have cheese for dinner and drink some adult beverages while watching a movie. Romantic? Yeah, absolutely. You kind of get to a point where everything’s romance, it’s all just at a low simmer, that’s all. (Except for times when it’s not!)

Twenty-eight years, wow. Oh, I think she just got up. I have to go make her morning coffee.