That's right 16 sweet years of marriage. (I spent several hours this morning trying to scan some wedding pictures and instead of throwing the printer across the room I substituted pictures of what I would like, or not like-I'll let you guess-if I were getting remarried today...to the Big Guy of course). I met the Big Guy when I was 16, spent 7 years courting him (and a few minutes where I thought we might end up in court), popped the question on New Year's Eve...yup I asked him and a year and a half later...Mr. and Mrs. W. Abbott. Now what's so weird is that there is no way that someone as young (and vibrant I might add) could possibly have met her beloved 24 1/2 years ago. These damn anniversaries just seem to remind me of how old we are. So it hasn't always been roses and champagne, but my heart still does a little pitter patter when I see his text messages and when I hear him walk in the door at night. He bends over backwards to do little things for me...and I let him (after all it is a mighty nice view). The Big Guy surprised me this morning with a massage table, so in all my appreciation I asked him where the certificate was for "life long massages." He said that was what he was waiting for. I guess that would be payback for the latte maker I got him for his birthday...I was just trying to make it easier for him to make me my weekend coffee! Actually I am pretty sure that the Big Guy would go to bed happy every night if he could give me a bed time massage (and even happier if I would reciprocate).
Of all the phone calls I received today, I think my dad said it best, "Congratulations on keeping a guy that long." Following my silence (and muffled giggle) he said, "What? I would say the same thing to the Big Guy about you." Thanks, Dad!