Today is my fifteenth wedding anniversary. Fifteen years ago today it was a Saturday morning and I was in a cold sweat. Our neighbor, Linda, was arranging chairs in the backyard, Jack was standing around laughing and being far too relaxed about everything, and I was on the phone yelling at the bakery that had no record of our order for a four-tier cake and finger food for 50+ guests.
It takes a lot for me to yell at someone. I sound exactly like my mom when I do, my voice drops a register and comes from somewhere deep in my chest. I think it’s hilarious that anyone takes me seriously in that state. It’s like I’m trying to sound like a yeti.
As soon as he heard that our cake was M.I.A. our other neighbor, Lance, ran to the grocery store and bought and decorated a sheet cake for us, which was ten times better than any four-layer strawberry-covered monstrosity I could have dreamed up.
(The whole cake story is here.)
It seems like everything worked out because here we are, 5,475 days later. We’ve had some amazing times and some extremely rough times. But I’m not big on public displays of affection, I’m afraid, so there will be no sentimentality here today.