Ten Years and Counting
At my parent’s 50th anniversary party, they shared the secret to their long and happy marriage: Never wallpaper together.
I think those were simpler times. We don’t have a strip of wallpaper in the entire house, but require an elaborate and potentially expensive system to maintain marital bliss. It’s kept us going through a kitchen reno, knee surgery, a no less than three separate, high-pressure car shopping expeditions. Today we’ve been married ten years. A decade. Not nearly long enough.
What’s our secret? Healthy boundaries. We have:
His & Hers knives. I have three very sharp, very expensive, almost unpronounceable Wosthof knives, complete with honing steel and a whetstone. These knives sit in their own gated community of a storage block. Andrew has a range of Wiltshire StaySharp knives with never-needs-sharpening “micro serrations” glued into plastic handles. The entire set, including the block, cost half the price of my small, potentially lethal paring knife. Believe me when I say I keep my end of the bargain and never touch his knives.
His & Hers pans. Or pan, depending on how you look at it. While I have a good set of heavy-bottomed stainless steel pots that even at 2/3 off cost me more than my Ettiene Aigner wedding shoes, Andrew has exclusive use of my mother’s hand-me-down cast-iron frying pan. Despite one really heroic attempt at setting the kitchen on fire, Andrew and his gung-ho cooking style have yet to damage it. Yes, I use it on occasion, but in fairness, I never touch his baseball bats.
His & Hers home offices. Nuff said.
Other than that? I give full credit to Andrew. With the exception of when he was recovering from knee surgery, I haven’t sorted or washed a load of laundry in a decade. He makes sure there is always a jug of milk on hand for my morning latte even when I am so obsessed with perfecting a biscotti recipe I don’t speak to him or shower for days. He made pie for my family when I put my back out, endured months of As the Barrel Turns, and came up with two tasty solutions for the six pans of failed biscotti mentioned earlier. He even puts the toilet lid down.
He’s a keeper.
Happy Anniversary, darling. The best is yet to come.