Six Years

(Oh, the emotion. What a beautiful time that was ... a time when I had only one chin and my arms did not look like hippo stumps. And, oh yeah, we got married.)

Marriage. Isn't it funny that it is so far from how you pictured it when you were a hopelessly romantic teen poet, like myself? It is better. More fun, more fulfilling, more rewarding, more challenging, more, more and more everything. Don't get me wrong, we fight. We sigh loudly enough for the other to hear, we mumble and roll our eyes at each other. We even scream at each other about our egos in the Target parking lot (okay, so that was only me, but who's keeping score?). But rarely does 45 minutes go by before we are laughing and apologizing (okay, me again) and realizing how blessed we are to have each other. And I am even thankful that we tiff, because if we didn't it would mean one of us is a doormat, and the biggest insult to me would be to be that naggy wife whose husband is sighing, "Yes, dear," all day long.

Is it bad to say that the last six years have felt like sixteen? Or sixty? Because I don't mean that they have been so burdensome and grueling, and, good golly, I can't imagine another six. These years have seemed longer because I simply cannot think of my life without Matt. It is like he has always been there. He is the best thing in my life.

Six years ago we vowed to make a life together. It is better than I ever could have imagined it being. Not to mention, everyday I get to wake up and see this awesome hunkiness of a man ...

And, to be fair, he got this ...

Making his dreams come true. One scoop at a time.