Not for FB

My love calls FB brag book and he is right. Cute kids, clean houses, perfectly presented food and filtered selfies cover my Facebook feed. Here is a little story not going on FB. I don’t post much anyway.

Today was going to be a great day. I woke up early and did my workout. I made pancakes for the kids. I was planning on taking my daughter downtown for a doctor’s appointment then to a donut shop for GF donuts for her and vegan donuts for me.

Reality: Oldest daughter hated the pancakes. We were running late for the appointment and it took me three tries to get our Suburban into a downtown parking spot. We get to the doctor to find that this appointment was cancelled three months ago and scheduled for next month. I was getting a little flustered by this time. I drove right past the donut shop, in the wrong lane. I decided I didn’t want to go around the block and try to park again anyway. We did have success at the post office, at least as far as I know. It only took a few tries to get everything in boxes, addressed and paid for. On the way home I got stuck in an intersection. I was turning left and couldn’t see that the cars weren’t moving where I needed to go. I got honked at. Like I didn’t know that I was in the way? I hate getting honked at. When we got home my sweetie asked how things went. When I told him about the appointment mix up, he rolled his eyes and went back to his office. I was really glad that he didn’t want to talk. Or lecture me about my calendar or “help” in any way.

I went to our closet and cried. Nothing was really wrong. No one was hurt. I was hungry. Being hungry can make a big difference in how you feel. After I left the closet I sat down by myself and read for a little bit. I was feeling better. My husband came in and sat down next to me. Asked if I was alright, and I gave a curt reply. He asked if I was mad. No.  “Are you sad?”

“Yes.”

“Well, let’s start drinking. We don’t have anything to do or anywhere to be.” He looked sideways at me and grinned. “Aren’t we supposed to spend our anniversary hung-over, puking our guts out?”

I couldn’t help smiling. “That was actually New Year’s Eve.”

Neither of us drink often, but we both get horribly sick when we do drink.  Eleven years ago, the day after our wedding we went to a party. A fighter pilot party. The Jeremiah Weed was passed around. I vaguely remember drawing on someone’s face with a Sharpie. As we were walking to our friend’s house where we were crashing that night we slipped on the ice and didn’t feel a thing. We just laid in the snow and laughed. That was the fun part. Then there was the puking part. My brand-new husband had a hangover that lasted three days.

Eleven years later it is easy to laugh about. I am so blessed to have someone in my life that can lift my spirits with a shared memory from over a decade ago.

Happy Anniversary! Let’s see what we can laugh about eleven years from now.

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