Our leap year anniversary

Back when Paul and I were first a couple, many, many years ago, numbers seemed to matter a lot to me. The day he asked me to be his girlfriend was the 29th of the month. It was the month of August, though, a month that has more than 29 days every single year. Fast forward to when we were living together in San Diego and he asked me to marry him, that date I’m not even certain of. So much for numbers being a big deal. Fast forward even more to the day we decided to elope. The 29th was stuck in my head and the month happened to be February 1992, a leap year. I don’t recall even thinking about the fact that this meant we wouldn’t technically have an anniversary every year or all of the jokes that would be made, like that this year would technically only be our 5th anniversary since we were married on a leap year. Ha ha very funny. Aren’t those people hysterical? I’ve always laughed because it really is funny – I mean who chooses to get married on February 29th? I’m sure we aren’t the only ones, but it has certainly led to some fun conversations over the years.

This year though, it counts. We have an anniversary. We don’t have to decide whether to celebrate on February 28th or March 1st. Or both. We get this day, our day, to celebrate the day we were married. The part that’s most crazy to me, probably both of us, is that today is also a milestone anniversary because it’s our 20th. Let’s face it, nowadays that’s like an eternity considering how often people marry and divorce. I’m proud of us. I’m proud that Paul’s my husband and I’m proud to be his wife. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s almost always been fun. He’s the biggest goofball in my life and although it drives me crazy sometimes, I can’t imagine my life without him.

I think I’ll let him take me out to dinner.