That's not even the point. The point is that although I was a baby, I chose very, very well. Eric is the best. He takes good care of me (and yes, I know, grrrl power and all that, whatever, it's nice to be taken care of sometimes), he's a wonderful father, he has a great sense of humor, he is such a kind, generous soul, and for some reason he likes me even though he's seen me at my best AND (more times than I'd like to admit) my worst.
|1995. I won't lie, I edited to make us look old-timey.|
That's love, people.
|2013. Selfie at Bryce Canyon.|
P.S. Lately I've been asked why we decided to get married on Labor Day weekend. Easy: A) September Second is an alliteration; 2) Eric wanted to get married before hunting season (well, he did); and C) We thought that, with the holiday, maybe people would be too busy to come. I know, that seems counterproductive, but we're both introverts with extrovert mothers who know the entire world. As it was, it didn't really work. Our little church was packed. I find that rather touching now.