Can't Say How It's Done
Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Mighty Aphrodite! Can August 23, 2009 actually be Anne's 25th wedding anniversary? By golly. I think it is.
A quarter of a century spent with one mate.
What's amazing to me is not that Mr. Johnson and I have been together that long, but that 25 years have passed. The time is so hazy now. The Heir is 20, and The Spare is 15, and ... my goodness. How did this come to pass?
I've probably cooked dinner 7,500 times. I've packed 3,600 school lunches and done 5,260 loads of laundry. I've fed the cats 3,250 times. Decibel the Parrot has gotten a bowl of bird food 8,306 times.
Snap! Done and done again.
To those of you wondering how to stay married for 25 years, I can't give you much advice.
One thing Mr. Johnson and I have in common is that we're not restless people. We don't flit. We even go the same place for summer vacation every year, and when we get there we sit together and stare out at the Chesapeake Bay together.
We both like to read newspapers. We're both pro-union liberals. We always vote the same ticket. We don't always agree on child-rearing, and it's those differences in philosophy that generally lead to our occasional arguments. Otherwise we smile at each other most of the time. When we're not worried about this and that.
Mr. Johnson would tell you that he's been a trial to live with, and I've been a saint for putting up with him. How nice of him to overlook the fact that he's spent 30 years with a wacky woman who flirts with turkey vultures and who carries on whole conversations with a cast of imaginary characters she's concocted to keep her company. Mr. Johnson lives daily with a mate who thinks nothing of mouthing back at South Jersey tough guys who criticize her driving. And he's patient as can be with all the faeries, and the Rituals, and the altars, and all the Pagan stuff. All of it. Actually he likes it a lot better than he did the church lady Methodist stuff.
So, here's to 25 years of partnering! I know it's been that long because the trees in my yard have thicker trunks now. Heir is in college, Spare is beautiful, Alpha the cat has lost her teeth. Only Decibel looks the same. And sounds the same. Which is loud.
Maybe I will give all you young lovebirds a little advice. Have a very small wedding -- less than 20 guests. You'll save a ton of money, and you'll still be just as married as these big spenders who dump $45,000 on a single day in their lives. Think of all the things you can do with $45,000. That will pay for many, many summer vacations staring at the Chesapeake Bay. And all the laundry detergent you'll ever need.
Labels: navel gazing