Well now. I feel rather better having got all that off my chest. I should rant more often, really I should. You wouldn’t believe how much more positive and forgiving-of-everyone-including-myself I am today. I even felt forgiving and benign towards Cute Ute, when she decided at about 3pm today she’d had enough and was going to cramp up now, thank you. Poor old Cute Ute. She can’t help limping, scarred battered old thing. I shall give her a paracetamol and a hot water bottle.
Anyway, today is our 7th wedding anniversary. Yes, H and I have been married for seven whole years this very day, and have been a couple for *gasp* nineteen years. And what’s more, I think we still like each other. In my family, this is somewhere between Unprecedented and Miraculous (with a side-order of Unnatural, Frankly, and Do You Keep His Testicles In Your Handbag? Which both pisses me off (how disrespectful to both of us, don’t you think? That H is emasculated, and that I can only keep a man’s interest by emasculating him? My family suck sometimes) and makes me smirk, because, envy much?).
We’re not celebrating today – I know! May and H, the Internet’s most loved-up couple, not celebrating their wedding anniversary! H has Very Important Commitments this evening, so we thought, eh, stress not, we shall. We only got married on the 19th of March because it was the closest Saturday to our ‘real’ anniversary, the anniversary of our first kiss (under a tree, in the rain, because we are British). So we are going out to dinner that day instead. It’s all good.
Mawwiage. Mawwiage is what bwings us togethaw today. Mawwiage, that bwessed awwangement, that dweam within a dweam…