Thursday, August 08, 2013

Thirteen years (and 3 days)

Monday was our thirteenth anniversary.  We knew it was going to be special when I had at least 4 moments in the week before where I found myself going "Augh! Next week is our anniversary.  Need to get on that." And then promptly forgetting again.

Sunday night Rob wandered into my home office where I was working.  (Ok, fine, watching youtube videos, whatever.)

R: "Hey, um, are you expecting a big thing tomorrow?  Should I get you a card or something?"
J: What's tomorrow?  *puzzled look*...*recognition*  Oh, right!
R: "Guess that answers that..."

So Monday dawned with whining, argumentative children and a beautiful day.  And thus began the traditional "We should do something today, right? Like, something...? What do you want to do? Just pick something and we'll do it... Dinner?" conversation.  I worked from home all day so we could have this fascinating conversation the ceremonial 15 times.  Somewhere toward late afternoon, after a few hours of weeding the back yard and patio and cleaning up sandbox toys that were strewn about in broken shards, I went inside and ordered Indian food.  This is our go-to option for take out since nearly everything is gluten free and there's a reasonable number of healthy-ish things that the kids really enjoy, too.

Plus, Rob and I love it. It's not like we totally gave up and ordered a laundry basket full of chicken nuggets and french fries.

And thus our anniversary concluded in a glorious spread of pakora and paneer and aloo and biryani and chana.  And a marathon of first season New Girl on Netflix.

It's no oatmeal full of bugs, but it'll do.


  1. I was scared off of oatmeal for months after that post.

    Happy 13th anniversary! We had a similar experience this year and it's only our ninth. :)

    There is an Indian restaurant here we want to show off to you all. Food included. I know. Awesome. Any time you're out here to the rural-ness of Utah.

  2. Sounds like a plan! :)

  3. Happy anniversary! (It's late, and Ben had to alert me that I'd typed "Haooy" instead of "Happy." I'm sure "haooy" could sound like a festive noise.)

    I have one of those plastic cups with lid & straw -- gift from a school worker -- that I've been using on road trips. After bringing Susan back home last month I cleaned it out & set the straw on the kitchen table to air dry. Days later I checked on it & found an earwig squeezed in, exactly halfway. (Finding itself some water, I guess.) I've decided now that disposable straws are the way to go.