I'm a sentimental old fool.
Or maybe you think I'm a sentimental young fool. If you do, let me just say, "Bless you."
I remember dates like no one's business. Well, the good dates anyways. I remember what I was doing five days before Gi-Gi was born because it was tax day, the date of our first kiss, the date we met, the day we moved into this house. Believe me, the list goes on and on...
...and on and on...
I think my husband secretly loathes the days when I say, "Guess what happened on this date five (or six or three, whatever) years ago?" He gets his deer in the headlights look in his eyes and I know his pulse jumps exponentially.
Being the wonderful man that he is, though, he almost always comes through. Bless his little pea-picking heart.
I sprung this on him two days ago. "Guess what tomorrow is?"
There was only the slightest of pauses as he gathered his scattered wits about him. Then he triumphantly pronounced, "It's the seventh anniversary of the day we got engaged."
Aw, that's why I love this man. He indulges me in my silly little 'Name the Event' game and he almost always gets it right.
And that is reason #1,943,003 that I love him.
I'm really glad that he asked me to marry him on August 23, 2003.
And I'm really glad that I had the guts to say yes to the adventure that was about to begin.
(And yes, I hinted around at it this morning, just to see what he would do. He never missed a beat. He just smiled goofy-like and didn't say a word. Maybe he didn't remember and is really good at making it look like he did. More testing is needed.)