Eighteen years ago, Phillip and I made a rookie move by choosing December 7th for our wedding date. We thought it would be so romantic to celebrate our wedding at our favorite time of year, and we were right. But Greenhorns that we were, we had no understanding that Christmas would forever overshadow our anniversary, especially once we had kids. Oh foolish Us of 1996: How could you fail to think that one through? There has rarely been enough Mistle-Dough in the budget in December to fund anniversary presents or celebrations.
So Phillip and I were laying around feeling a little sorry for ourselves that another anniversary was going to come and go without fanfare. In a fit of petulance, we looked up what the traditional gift for the 18th anniversary is supposed to be (you know, paper, taxidermy, etc.).
Whose significance eluded me until Phillip pointed out that we both began and ended this year of our marriage, by replacing a toilet:
In February, Throne #1
In September, Throne #2
Thanks, Indoor Plumbing! So we didn't give each other new teapots, but we did get two new peepots. Happy Anniversary!