This day I married my friend.
My best friend.
It's kinda cliche, I know that, but oh, so true.
If you aren't marrying your best friend, you ought not be getting married.
I've been scampering around, fetching for him for three weeks now as he hobbles around on a broken foot. That he broke doing something that I don't enjoy being abandoned for him to do. Now I have to wait on him hand and foot. I got more than a little grumpy about it there for a few days. After the first three hours the thank yous ran out. I found that thank yous keep me going. A person who shall remain nameless brought my wedding vows into it. "In sickness and in health." (I'm not certain we used that line, by the way, but we probably did. My specific vows had more to do with "encouraging all you are as an individual." That I do remember.) As I told friends a couple days later, "I didn't promise I'd do it with a good attitude. All I promised was that I'd stay married. I have." Later, I told them it was the thank yous that were missing and messing me up. Since I told them, I told him. "Not every time, but a couple times a day would be nice." He has. Guess who is less crabby?
You do that with friends.
Happy anniversary, Gimpy. Love you.