At a coffee shop waiting for the traffic to clear after fireworks, July 4, 2010. The people behind us had screeching children, which I did not appreciate.
So, it’s been six years since we got married in a country-western bar in downtown Orlando. (Remind me to tell you the story if I haven’t already.) Since then, we’ve graduated from college (twice for me), moved, gotten jobs, left jobs and got other ones, lost jobs, joined a new church though convinced we’d never find another we liked as much as ours in Orlando, found a group of friends we love dearly, been apart far too long (longest was nearly three weeks the first time I went to Congo), thought about kids, decided against kids for time being, got a house, refinanced said house, watched said house decline in value, managed to stay out of debt (except for aforementioned house), saved a modest emergency fund, fought weeds in our yard, dreamed about moving again, planned vacations we never took, planned other vacations we swear we really will take, fought far too often about stupid things, fought about legitimate things, loved each other fiercely.
It’s been a wild ride so far.
One Comment
As well it should be. Happy six.