Happy Anniversary

Today I celebrate five years of marriage with John McCall - five years, two kids and seemingly 13.5 hours of sleep. Last night, as we were going to bed, John said called me a doofus. You see, I am one of those people who only truly believe humorous acknowledgments of my being. I live for the joke, this is not to say that I am not serious, I am in ways. But I much prefer to laugh than lament. For example, the other night on the Bachelorette, one of the bachelors was having a serious conversation with his mom about his emotional development, his acceptance of himself and his new reality of wanting to be a person of substance. His mother listened intently, thanking him for an apology. All the while I am watching this, I am saying in my head - Do people really act like this? If I was to tell my mother any of that, she would have said “Oh my god, Cassie. What the fuck is wrong with you? Get a load of Cassie Mikey, Ms. la deee da. Emotional reality? Oh for Christ’s sake. Shut up and get over yourself.” So yeah, I don’t take things of a serious nature very seriously. But neither does John. After his doofus comment, I retorted with “Well, you are the one that proposed to me.” And he said, “Did I?” And I said, “Yeah, right?” To which he responded, “Ah, I don’t know.” And I guess I could have been “that” girl who can’t believe her husband forgets such important things, but seriously, I had no freaking clue either. The only reason I know today is my anniversary is because I have the wedding invitation on my refrigerator. So, yeah, Happy Anniversary John. You may or may not have proposed, but who cares really? I 50s styled trapped you by getting pregnant and now you are condemn to a life with a girl who doesn’t like birthday gifts, anniversary gifts, Christmas gifts but will instead play fantasy sports with you while drinking gimlets. Cheers to us. Also, we sorta kinda made these two nitwits.