To My Wife...

One year ago today, I believe it was your father who said it best: "I give 'em 3 years."

Clearly, your father is an optimist. I didn't think we'd make it through Christmas. After all, here is what you bring to our marriage: openness, compassion, forgiveness, generosity, a never-ending amount of patience and a knack for cooking. Oh, and a free house.

Here is what I bring: a smart-ass sense of humor, an ability to expel excess gastrointestinal vapors in new and exciting ways, a propensity for road rage and a continuous request for back rubs. Oh, and constant griping - while doing the dishes - that you typically need 278 kitchen utensils to make spaghetti.

Despite this, you've not only hung around, but apparently you're willing to stay a while. Which not only makes me question your sanity, but the legitimacy of a degree from Harvard. I know you're smart and all, but...well...scroll up and check those lists again.

The experts say that we should never stop growing, and so as we enter year 2, I resolve to grow as well. That is, grow the number of games I/we watch on our kick-ass high def TV. You can deny it all you want, but you and I both know there is nothing more romantic then spending the wee hours of a Friday night watching Marlins-Dodgers. I'll even let you pick the topping on the pizza.

Putting up with me is not always easy, but more often than not, you do it with a smile. Like anyone who knows me well, you know that I say what's on my mind, and most of the time, you grin and bear it...although you'll be pleased to know that after 4.5 years, I may have figured out that jokes about Satan and the communion wafers do not seem to be your favorites.

You sometimes ask me why I love you and it's not so much coming up with a list of qualities so much as it is appreciating the totality. You are a good person with a gigantic capacity to love; you're (reasonably) funny; pretty damn cute; and, you don't complain as you wash my running clothes twice per week. What's not to love?

As we look ahead to year two and beyond, we look forward to visiting Vegas and finally bringing home Vegas. That's right - we've already had the name tag etched out...whatever dog we finally end up with...his or her name is Vegas (Baby). We'll hopefully land a new set of wheels and there's a decent chance that you will finally get me more involved with church events, now that you have explained to me what's at stake.

Remember when you asked me to be more expressive in writing? I'm assuming this is what you had in mind?

Happy anniversary, honey. I love you.