Best Laid Plans

Yesterday was Trent and I’s second wedding anniversary. I rang in this glorious occasion with some sort of food poisoning. Trent celebrated by listening to me puke and then complaining about how hard it is to sleep when someone is doing that in the next room. Sorry, babe. My bad.

I had a bunch of ideas of what I would write on our big day, including song lyrics from a song we used to listen to when we were miles and miles away from each other, a myriad of photos from when we were young and insane, or maybe even a haiku. The food poisoning thwarted my plans.

Another idea was that we would both re-write our vows. I was tickled by the hilarity that would ensue, but, as things often do in this family, we both had no time and no vows were written. My lord, how we made it through an entire wedding is beyond me.

So, after at least 30 seconds of deep thought, here are my new, improved and much more realistic vows to my dear, dear husband:

I promise to try not to freak out when I come home and Lucy’s milk is sitting, rotten, on the counter and know that you really did try to make it to the fridge before you left in the morning.

I promise to attempt to close bottles of condiments and drinks by taking the time to screw on the lid, instead of just setting it on top of the bottle.

I promise to always pick up your pants off the dining room floor.

I promise to entertain your visiting parents when you are laying in bed sick.

I promise to never let Lucy see when I’m mad at you.

I promise to always scratch your back in the mornings, even if I’m late.

I promise to take the time to remember why I married you in the first place and appreciate all the things you do to make my life better.