Way back in July of 1986, DH and I got dressed up. It was very hot that summer in Hotlanta, and the house we were renting only had one air conditioned room, but still we got some fancy dress clothes on for an afternoon gathering. A lot people were coming.
And they saw DH and I put on the dog and get married. We did it right, marrying at a lovely Presbyterian church in what's now a trendy neighborhood in Hotlanta. Lots of friends and family there. Had a great reception in one of those big houses on Ponce de Leon Avenue, ate lovely food and drank good champagne, with bluegrass music played by some friends.
DH looked like a stick - so slim! I had big hair, big glasses, and a hoop skirt. My younger sister was my only attendant , and I let her wear whatever she wanted. My dress wasn't fancy - I found it at Penny's outlet and paid $90 for it. (That included the plastic storage bag. Really.)
We had yummy cake - it was chocolate with raspberry filling, made by a friend.
And guess what? Three children, two houses, many jobs, a house fire, and a brain tumor later, we're still married. (We are firm believers in sticking to things, plus marriage counseling does help when needed.) Whoda thunk we would last?
So, what are we doing to celebrate? Not much. No money! DH made a laughing suggestion that we get matching tattoos, but I politely declined. Um, no. Not ever.
Happy 25th, DH. (And no tattoos.)
UPDATED: I have become what I have sneered at.
9 hours ago