Seventeen years ago today I married my husband. For the record, he's just as good-looking now as he was then, he just doesn't look fourteen anymore. I still laugh at our wedding picture. I look 12. I promise, we were both in our twenties though.
Seventeen years ago we married on the day before Father's day just like today. The weather was windy, but not too bad. My hair was self-made because my stylist got the flu. Uhm, I sort of had poodle hair as a result of my efforts. Oh well. With all the wind I don't think it made much difference.
We headed out on Father's day for our honeymoon. That's when a horrible sore throat settled in. I smiled through the six hour drive and hoped it would go away. Well, it kind of did. It moved out of my throat and into my lungs.
So there we are in the middle of nowhere in a cabin without heat, and it snows. In June. And if that's not enough, I've got bronchitis so bad that I can't even talk at all.
Yeap. That was our historic honeymoon.
And here we are, seventeen years later. You'll never guess what my husband picked up while we were on vacation..... bronchitis. He hasn't had a real voice for a week. He can't talk sometimes or he'll end up in a coughing fit. It's sort of like we've switched roles to celebrate our anniversary.
I should have known that would come back to haunt us.
Anyway, thank goodness for antibiotics.
And, in spite of snow in June and bronchitis, I would do it all over again because being married to my man is worth it all. For those of you who know him, you understand how amazing he is. And for all of you who don't, you'll just have to take my word for it.