ShareWIK.com

I was one of the first of my friends to get married.  In the early years, I remember keeping up with the many wedding invitations, as, one by one, my friends married. 

Then there were the baby years.  Lately, we’re getting graduation announcements, and many of our friends are celebrating precious-metal anniversaries.

Including us.

Over the years, we’ve watched couples celebrate their anniversaries with big trips to amazing destinations or romantic getaways.  But that’s never been our style.

And it’s not because we don’t have anything to celebrate.  Clearly, 25 years and four kids is landmark.  But I just know that when it comes to how we mark the occasion, we won’t win any awards for romance.

I had a few romantic notions early in our marriage.  Somewhere I read the first anniversary was a “paper” anniversary, so I bought my husband a book.  For the second year, a new cotton shirt.  Year three: a leather jacket.   By the “fruit and flowers” anniversary, I realized my husband had entirely missed the memo on anniversary gifts.  And I don’t just mean the memo about year five being the “wood” anniversary.  In truth, I think he was a little surprised that anniversary gifts were expected.  I mean, after all, I had him, right? 

Actually on our second anniversary, I had his brother, too.  That’s right – we invited his brother, flying solo at the time, to join us for an intimate dinner for … three.

Clearly, sappy romance is not our forte.   It’s okay.  There were other reasons I married this guy.  Reasons that matter.  No one can be good at everything, and I’ll trade the mush for a good sense of humor any day.

By our 10^th anniversary, I was immersed in the day-to-day care of our two small children and hadn’t given a celebration much thought.  So I was surprised that he did.  A night out!  No kids, nice clothes, good food.  It sounded wonderful. 

And it was.

As we headed home, I was looking forward to enjoying the rest of a quiet evening together, when we came upon a police car with its lights on.  My husband rolled down the window to ask what was going on.  The officer told him someone had hit a deer. 

“It ain’t dead yet; you want the tag?” the officer asked.  And before I could even process what had taken place, my husband had said, “Yes,” and was loading Bambi’s cousin on the hood of our car.

And that is why we arrived home from our 10^th anniversary celebration with a mostly dead dear on the hood of our Volkswagon. 

Thank goodness the kids were in bed.

While my husband spent the rest of the evening with our neighbor, who helped him dress the deer in exchange for half the meat — they hung the carcass from a basketball goalpost — I took a hot bath and drank tea.

We enjoyed venison dishes all winter.  And say what you will about celebrating an anniversary.  My husband may not have the edge on romance, but you can’t ever say he doesn’t put food on the table.

Humor writer Hallie Bandy is the mother of four children and lives on a farmette in rural Kentucky--both of which provide more than enough fodder for her writing.  She is a regularShareWIK.com columnist.
 


More Hallie Bandy articles, click here.
  


©ShareWIK Media Group, LLC 2011