The traditional gift for a ninth wedding anniversary is pottery and willow. (Mighty in the ways of Google searching am I. (Sorry, Google brings out my inner-Yoda.))
We happen to be good in both the pottery and willow categories. So, for Keith’s gift I’m giving him the gift all men secretly hope for – a blog post.
(But wait. This gift gets better.)
Keith and I didn’t write our own vows nine years ago and I think it’s time. So I started to write my vows to Keith. And then … inspiration hit. I should write Keith’s vows to me. What an amazingly thoughtful, selfless gift, right? (Yes, he is a lucky, lucky man.)
So, Keith, in lieu of pottery and willow, I give you this:
I, Keith, take you, Amy, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.
I vow to kill every spider in the house without commenting on the size and/or making Amy look at it so she can learn to identify spiders.
I vow to accept that Amy does not like fish or peas. I promise never again to scoop more peas on her plate in front of the kids and say, “Look, Mommy loves her vegetables.”
I vow to put the remote back in the basket conveniently known as “the remote basket” and not place it in between couch cushions or in the pantry.
I vow to always buy Amy popcorn at the movies.
I vow to stop reminding Amy about the time she hit the babysitter’s car with my car.
I vow to always hand over the final bite of an ice cream cone to Amy as I know it’s her favorite part.
I vow to sleep with a fan on. Always.
I vow to not end compliments with, “There. How was that?”
I vow to not use ordinal directions with Amy when a “left” or “right” would do.
I vow to subscribe to Amy’s blog.
(Seriously, he changed his email and is no longer subscribed. I know. Wow.)
If life is a metaphorical journey then our marriage so far has been an extreme journey with mountains and sharks and epic quests (metaphorically speaking, of course; we haven’t had any issues with actual sharks). These nine years of marriage included three years in the interior of Alaska, three moves, three kids, two (at least!) career changes, one year in Afghanistan, and one tornado.
I’m just glad to be on this journey with you.
I love you and I can’t wait to see how we finish off our first decade together.
What vows would you like to write for your significant other?