Happy 1,000,000,000,000th Anniversary

So it was 3 years ago to the day that we stood under the stars of Estes Park and proclaimed our undying, timeless, everlasting love for each other. The moon and the mountains moved under our feet, trembling in awe of the power of our love. Aliens were slated to destroy our universe but instead were brought to their scrawny knees and found themselves frolicking in the celestial sands by the forces our loving aura. Even the most hardened criminals in prison were holding hands and embracing each other (admittedly they may do that anyway, but I wouldn't know anything about doing hard time....soft time? Maybe.) African nations and their citizens' whose great-great-great-great-great-great grandparents didn't get along....still didn't get along.

Oh well, but for a split second of "I do" there was peace in our universe. I vividly remember pulling out my scrap paper with my vows scribbled all over and being taken down by the invisible forces of emotion. It doesn't get more honest than that. I am truly eternally grateful for the rock of support provided by my wife, family, and friends. Thanks to all that came to the celebration both in person and spirit. Even if you got snowed on, rained on, sun-ed on, loved on--we came to do work. That was one kick-ass party.

By the way it is a point of contention in our household about the anniversary tally. The Dairy Queen believes that the anniversary should encompass the 400 years that we dated prior to the "I do". Essentially it is her belief that we should get "credit" for all the hard time that we did together. As if there is some prize bank to cash in your anniversary chips at the end of the road. While that's a noble thought, it's a timeless adventure for us all. It's all a fart in the wind. Yes, it happens....but all too quickly it will be gone. So to Jay and to the rest of you--Happy Anniversary and may we celebrate for eternity.
"Hey baby. What's for dinner?"
Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad. I'm glad you met each other and found me at the grocery store! Quit that kissin' and feed me.
What's a blog post without almost getting slayed by a cute pic of The EGB?
Whatyu say Dad? NO! I will not tell Mom that you like her-like her. That's gross.