Tux and Otterkat No. 6

Saturday 02 February was our SIXTH Wedding Anniversary.  Who’d have thought, huh?  I rubbed my mum’s nose in it a bit, as she had been convinced I’d come running home crying from Belfast after about three weeks.  Mind you, it did all come as a shock to her.  She had NO IDEA that Tux and I were so deeply involved, or making plans [engagement, me making an international move, marriage, etc] until we announced the engagement back in May 2001.  She just about went into cardiac arrest … perhaps I should have give some warning, instead of interrupting a heated discussion on what colour to paint my brother’s kitchen.  But then again, when I had tried to tell her about Tux a month earlier, before his visit, she interrupted ME, saying, “oh don’t get your hopes up, he’ll just dump you like all the rest”.  [Which was unfair, and also inaccurate.  Okay, the last one had dumped me but the *coughmumblemumble* before that she didn’t even know about.]  It’s nice to have such a positive, confidence-boosting parent, isn’t it?

So here we are, six years after our wedding and just as in lurve and dopey about each other as ever.  It’s good stuff, we are content and easy with each other, we communicate well and appreciate each other immensely.  I don’t believe we’ve ever had a real fight – oh sure, we’ve had snits and sulks and crying jags [the crying jags would be me … mostly, hee] – but no screaming/yelling/throwing plates.  That’s just not our style.  And we have had a lot of stress and trouble to deal with in that time, that could have destroyed many a couple.  Culture shock; international moves; homesickness; health problems; financial woes; visa applications and fuck-ups galore.  Phew, it’s been pretty tough at times, really.

We celebrated quietly this year; no presents because of the newly bought house and need to save for sofas and dining suites and HD TVs.  We did have a lovely dinner out at one of our favourite restaurants, the CBD Restaurant on Hay Street, attached to Rydges Hotel – our preferred destination for dirty weekends and celebrations.

He’s a good man.  I am very, very lucky I made that impromptu trip to Belfast while holidaying in Dublin in 2000, and called him up [via a friend of a friend] for a drink.  Sometimes you have to believe in Fate.

Here’s to the next six years, or sixteen, or forty six.

Advertisements
Post a comment or leave a trackback: Trackback URL.

Comments

  • Dave  On Saturday 9 February 2008 at 12:16 am

    Well done that man, and boo to mean mommies. Here’s to many more years of reading how sickeningly, digustingly happy you two are 🙂

  • Scary  On Sunday 17 February 2008 at 4:11 am

    Are there any photos of the two of you?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: