Our Marriage...The Teenager

Thirteen.  It's been thirteen years of marriage.  And I don't really want to talk about it.

Not because I'm unhappy or anything so dramatic...it just makes me feel so very OLD.  I still feel like we're one of those young families with a couple of cute, snot-nosed toddlers running around.  But alas, that is not the case.  We do have one toddler, but we also have one tween (gasp).  I must face the fact that we are indeed older.

We make a great pair with our combined stereotypical quirks.  I stress all the time about everything under the sun.  And he sometimes gets a glazed look when I'm rambling on for endless hours until I say, "I don't think you're really listening to me".  His snores shake the foundation...I mean goodness...they are ear-splitting.  In fact, he gave me a stunning collection of hot pink ear plugs complete with travel case for my birthday.  They are the best.  And he just might leave his dirty socks on the floor...so we got a little sock hamper for his side of the bed.  It helps.  Sometimes.  And I can't stop squeezing the toothpaste from the middle and never remember to put the lid back on, resulting in a crusted-over top making it almost impossible to get any toothpaste out.  But I still do it.  Also, I always forget to replace the TP roll.  So...now he is the sole toilet paper roll replacer, and I have my very own tube of toothpaste to make a mess with as I wish and it has a flip top so I don't have to screw the lid back on.  Plus I can never, EVER remember which way to put the TP on.  Is it supposed to roll off the back or off the front?  Beats me.

But with thirteen years under our belts, I think we have learned to deal with more and more of the little annoyances...I guess that's part of growing up and becoming more mature.

Here's to thirteen more.  Quirks and all.  I wouldn't have it any other way.

And look at these lovelies.  Beautiful.

At dinner, we we were telling the kids it was our anniversary...thirteen years of wedded bliss.  Mr. C was all sorts of confused at the mention of "wedded bliss".  I told him it meant happily married.  He quickly responded with, "Ohhhhhh!  I thought it had something to do with a wet blister." 

Kills me.