Our sixth wedding anniversary was yesterday, and slightly overshadowed by the need to spend our day shopping for lighting and other odds and ends for upstairs. We were standing in line at the paint counter at Lowe's, each with a tired and hungry squirming daughter in our arms, when this fellow's t-shirt caught my eye:
It made me laugh out loud, underscoring the lack of romance on our iron anniversary.
Luckily we made up for it tonight. Brandy took the girls to her family's farm for dinner, and Drew and I high tailed it to the Oyster Bar for an amazing and relaxed dinner with a sunset over the water soaking us in warmth (or was that the champagne?).
We talked about the last year, dreamed about the next year and racked up a bill that took this kind of concentration to settle up:
And even though it's our iron year, Drew Vallee, no I will not iron your shirt because it's linen and it's supposed to look all rumpled up.
Sincerely,
Your loving wife
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