So I can totally see why we heteros think we have the market cornered on being married. But I digress into sarcasm and politics, my apologies. It's just too close to November not to point out that our gay friends ought to have the exact same rights we do - relationships are hard and credit is due to those who stick together through the shitstorms despite their Ps or Vs.
Anyway, happy anniverary to my stinky winky boo boo. I can't believe it's only been a year since our own special day.
This is not exactly how I thought today might be. I assumed there'd be champagne and NC-17ing. Turns out there will be a doctor's appointment and possibly ice cream because we are rock stars and life is bizarre.
I have no gift for my hubs because I haven't worked in a month. I made $24 in the past 40 days.
I can't speak, which might be a gift to him in itself, but in truth I know he's worried. If I could, though, I'd tell you about my husband.
He's worked 32 of the last 35 days to make sure our bills are covered and he's done our shopping and errands too. On at least a dozen of those nights he's rubbed my sore muscles to calm down their spasms. He's been my voice, calling insurance companies and clinics and speaking up for me because he knows I can't speak for myself right now.
He's also called me a tard roughly 112 times. He beatboxes when I stutter and sometimes when he bursts out laughing he says he can't help it, it's just my face that's funny right now.
He's my Prince Charming, really, and I love him stupid. We belong together.
I bet he's also looking forward to another 49 years or so with me, I'm quite a catch.
Cheers, baby! I'll buy you an ice cream cone!
Actually, you'll have to buy it. Next year, though, when I can speak and work and shit, the ice cream is totally on me.