Thursday, September 19, 2013

A letter to Zach on our anniversary.

Homecoming 2002?  One shoulder top?  Yes please.
10 years.  10 YEARS!   A whole decade.  All my fingers.  Next year is 1 toe.  10 years is a long time to be with someone.  I'm so proud of you and me!  We are pretty darn awesome.  No one thought we could do it - 2 CRAZY KIDS right out of high school with one CRAZY KID inside my uterus.  People thought we were just getting married because of Blake, but really, we were pretty much married the second we met.  We did married things when we were 17, like garage sailing and going for drives.  Everyone thought that just meant sex, which was only half way true, and the other half was garage sales and going for drives for
realzies.  I told you I loved you way too soon, 'cause I did, and you said, "I think I love you," which I'm pretty sure meant, "can we go garage sailing now?" but I knew you loved me, too. 

Present day adorableness.

2 gorgeous kids and 6 or 7 houses, 2 college degrees, 2 dogs down to 1, 400 broken Subarus and 2 good Toyotas, and 1 chicken farm later, here we are!  Luckily, we are still hot, too, otherwise this would have ended years ago.  Juuuuust kidding.  Kind of.  I'm glad that we decided together that you should always have a scruffy face and that I should cut your hair so you don't get a Pencil Head Haircut at Cost Cutters.  That we pick out your jeans together so I can see your cute butt.  That you sigh and groan and get mad at me, but you won't wear your ugly baseball caps into public with me.  I'm also glad we decided that every day you have to tell me 8 times that I do not look fat and that you don't get to be annoyed when I ask for the 9th time.  And how sometimes I ask if I will look like a "B" for bitch, and how other times I will ask if I look like a "bee" because what I'm wearing is black and yellow, and how you also don't get to be annoyed for that.  I guess this paragraph is my "thank you for putting up with my crazy" paragraph, because seriously, thanks for that.  I know I'm a terrible bitch sometimes and you ALWAYS have to clean the house because I HATE it and how I ask for a backrub seriously 5 times a night and you usually give in and do it and I never, ever
Zombies.  Why not?
return the favor, and how I always use run-on sentences (even though you do it waaaay worse, and mine's intentional, so there.).  Thank you for watching the kids day in and day out while I get away to my precious work in my precious city.  I love the country, but you know I need my escape and my me-time.  And thank you so much for your understanding that my friends are my family and I need to be with them sometimes, too.  You graciously stay home and watch the boys whenever I need you to.  Thank you for being there through the stress of terrible jobs and not enough money, of getting fired and getting hired.  For listening to my daily conversation of the consistency of my morning poo like it was worth listening to.  For knowing when to back the hell off when I'm curled up on the bed and I want to die, but also knowing when that passes and I need a hug.  And another backrub.  Thank you for throwing away your Bone Thugs in Harmony CD.

Thank you for these.

Beckie is totes crushing on Zachary.

I don't know how it's possible that we still think the other is so funny (wait, are you just pacifying me?).  You've had the same jokes for, like, 5 years now, and I still laugh at them.  I have no idea why.  Calling everything "Diablo Dan?"  What the hell is that?  And Our Lady of ______ jokes?  So lame.  I love it. 

So... 10 years.  That felt like 400 years and also 1 minute at the same time.  I'm the garsh-darn luckiest gal alive and I love you so much.

So I'm not buying you a present, except the knowledge that I am dancing around to this Paramore song which is unfortunately catchy and I like it except her baby bangs.  But it pretty much nails what I am so in-eloquently trying to express.
Love you.

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