Yesterday was my anniversary and my dear hubby and I celebrated nineteen years of marriage. I truly celebrate it, mentally. We acknowledge the day. All the hoopla...not a fan. I like that we are on the same page about such things.
Hubby and I operate in a different universe from many couples. Many of the guidelines that make up the foundation of our twisted union were established early on to promote marital bliss. These guidelines include, but are not limited to, the following:
- At no time during my husband's natural life will we ever live north of the Mason-Dixon line.
- I am forbidden by local customs, Methodist interpretation of the Holy Bible and federal law to end my husband's natural life.
- No cats; ever (I killed that cat person, remember?).
- The wife will support the husband's desire to get bees and bee hives, because even though he talks about it yearly, he never does get bees or bee hives.
- All arguments will be solved using the "till death do us part" rule, which states that in the event of a disagreement, you must compromise and get over it or ask yourself "is it worth dying over?" (We're in it till death...and there's those pesky things mentioned in number two.)
- No dinners consisting of a casserole that was prepared using a can of soup as a key ingredient will be served.
- The great casserole debate of 2004 necessitated the Casserole Addendum of 2004, which further stipulated that tuna could not be an ingredient of anything but tuna salad OR heated, under any circumstances, so help me, God.
- The husband will take the lead on lawn mowing. This is not sexist, as he nitpicks the route taken on the riding mower when others mow and claims to see small pieces of grass that are missed. It's best this way.
- The husband will not entertain any illusion of cooking skill. This includes alternate methods of cooking bacon in the oven or a variety of microwave ideas that any wife worth her salt would know that they just produce an inferior dinner product.
- The wife will make meal, furniture, pet and paint decisions, within budget.
- The wife may sneak TVP into chili up to the point where the husband realizes that there has been a drastic change in the ratio of meat to TVP.
- The wife is allowed to baby talk to any animal, provided she does not dress them in clothes. The husband feels this is beneath the dignity of any animal; though he claims they do not have feelings, he does assert that "they are embarrassed" by the fashion choices.
- The husband will occasionally overlook the fact that he has caught his wife dressing the dog in a babushka, and trying to make the dog look like she is saying "Yoy, yoy, yoy... " as an exception to the clothing rule...since everyone knows it's just a head covering.
- We will never combine our names to form Chark, no matter how famous we might be, because that would be ridiculous...Kimye.
- If a black and white movie is on for more than 15 minutes, the wife may leave the room and do crafts (or anything else in the world), no matter "how good this film is...it's a classic...Jimmy Stewart! Mumble mumble something...John Wayne!"
Those rules are a preemptive strike against most common arguments.
We prepped for our anniversary celebration several days in advance, in our usual manner. As hubby leaned on a shovel, I leaned on a hoe and we discussed 1) how wimpy we had become since the last time we planted the garden and 2) what we wanted to do for our anniversary. We are dynamos of social activity; a whirlwind of preparatory excitement followed. All that and a bag of chips (one of the stupidest sayings I've ever heard, but I like to go the extra mile).
"Are we going to do cards and all that stuff?" he inquired.
"Naw, let's not; we'll do that next year," I replied.
"Should we go out to eat or something?" he asked.
"Sure." I said.
At the end of the school year, I'm just tired of running around. To be honest, just pointing at a picture of food or flowers would have sufficed; don't tell hubby. Don't tell my girlfriends, for that matter; I'm a bit of a traitor to my kind.
We went out for dinner, with Gonzo in tow, opting for our favorite Chinese restaurant. It was a lovely, peaceful dinner befitting our style.
This life we carved out for ourselves is ours to do with as we will. And we do. We are not the same, hubby and I, but we are well matched. We don't fall into the trap of burdening our relationship with phony shows of affection or symbolism created by someone else. Actually, my husband claims it is the greedy greeting card CEOs who are responsible for the phony shows of affection and symbolism, but nonetheless, we do our own thing and I'm so happy that it is OUR thing.
He's mine and I'm keeping him. In life, I've occasionally been very, very lucky...and blessed.
I do miss a good casserole, though. I'm just sayin'.