Congratulations! You’re the proud (better be) owner of a four year marriage! Can’t friggin’ believe it, can ya? Who would have thought it? We’re friggin’ adults, dude. Like, old people.
I mean, when you dared me, and yes, you dared me to marry you, that our lives would have turned out like they have?
Sure, I drag my feet on a lot of stuff, but hey, so does our five year old, so that’s okay, right? (That totally made sense in my head so if it doesn’t make sense to you, uhm…I’m sorry. But you know me and you should totally have got that.)
You deal with me when I have the weirdest ideas. (I still think asking you to take the garbage out wasn’t that crazy of an idea. Pfft.) You’re a saint, and you know it. You fix things for me when I act like I know what I’m doing and you might bitch and moan but you fix it anyways.
Well, now you’re in the room and I feel all awkward, but know I love you.