Five years ago today I walked down the aisle to a slow folk song and married the guy who “doesn’t really need dessert.” It was before Pinterest and vintage photo booths and three videographers. The weather predicted clouds and rain but it was sunny and warm. I wore 45 dollar white flip flops off eBay, a simple white dress, and no bra.
It was a great day.
Five years later and I am fatter and he is thinner and we have two slobbery kids and are much better at marriage.
Of course five years isn’t very long to be married or actually know anything about marriage, but if you want my two cents of non-advice, it is this:
1) Let it go.
2) Talk about it.
3) Let it go again.
Obviously this doesn’t always work. Alternatives to dealing with spousal irritations include angry cleaning the kitchen, leaving one smelly towel in the bathroom, and drinking all the orange juice.
Dear Austin, there are thirty pairs of your shoes piled by the door and I am going to burn them. I love you so much. Thank you for checking in all day even though you’re busy. Thank you for unclogging the shower drain. Thank you for folding your own laundry and making the best egg sandwiches and being the kind of dad who really loves being a dad.
I love your ridiculous tall socks and stupid squid shirt and am glad we got married five years ago because now I don’t have to worry about things like oil changes and tax forms.
I’m serious about the shoes.