Last week, the Man and I celebrated fourteen years of wedded bliss.
Aside from a kiss on the cheek and a fly by "Happy anniversary", it was no big deal. I worked. He worked. We chased kids. We did normal "us" stuff.
Hell, we didn't even sleep in the same bed that night.
(He was at work. I was alone. Pervs!)
But I realized fourteen years is a long time.
I was 19 when we married.
When I vowed for better or worse (still waiting on some more better), richer or poorer (waiting on that richer time), 'til death do us part (as we're racing each other to the finish line on that one, assisted by our three heathens.)
Would I change anything? Some days, it's tempting. But then what would I lose out on?
The dumb ass things he makes me laugh myself sick over?
Our babies?
Knowing that while I may want to murder him, I'd miss him when he was six feet under?
Having a man who cleans and does dishes and cooks?
Would I miss out on all the good if I changed one thing?
And would I like what it became?
Fourteen years is almost 1/2 o my lifetime.
After that long a time, I don't want to change.
I want more goodies and an easier life, yes, but change, no.
Because, to quote Aerosmith in "Armageddon", I really don't want to miss a thing.
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