Ten Years--Where's My Tin?

Today A. and I are celebrating the tenth anniversary of our blessed nuptials. Have you ever looked at the list of traditional anniversary gifts by year? It's hilarious. My favorite might be Year Nine: Pottery/Willow.

Say what? Willow? I guess last year for our ninth wedding anniversary I could have gotten A. a willow basket or something. (Ooo! Or the movie! There's a blast from our 1980s past.) And had I bothered to consult the list this year, I would have gotten him something appropriately made of tin or aluminum.

Instead I got him hamburger patties.

Lemme 'splain.

A. eats a lot of meat. No, a LOT of meat. No, more meat than you're thinking a person who eats a lot of meat eats. A LOTLOTLOT. It's kind of hard to keep up with. Especially for lunch, when most people eat a sandwich or leftovers*, A. wanders into the kitchen with a forlorn look on his face, as if a sirloin steak might appear if he wishes hard enough.

It never does.

He has, in the past, purchased a great quantity of ground beef, which he then formed into very thin hamburgers and froze individually, later to be fried in a pan still frozen for a somewhat-convenient and still meat-based lunch.

He hasn't done that in awhile, though. And he's commented on this sad fact several times recently.

So I bought him some pre-made frozen hamburger patties for our anniversary. Because it's our tenth anniversary, I bought him ten pounds of them. And because I love him, I didn't buy them at Wal-Mart or something. Instead I made a special trip to the farm up the road that raises Scottish Highland cattle and sells their meat. Oh, those Highland cattle: So cute and so tasty.

See? Totally thoughtful and romantic. Well, thoughtful, anyway.

We'll probably eat some of them tonight for our special anniversary dinner. Which I will cook and which will be at five p.m. with two spastic children in attendance. Because that's married life after ten years and two kids.

Ten years. Two kids. One very unusual and pretty damn good life.

Happy anniversary to my husband of ten years. He's a keeper.

Do you know of any other men who bottle-feed lambs in the living room while sporting plastic bling**? Didn't think so. 

* He will, of course, eat meat leftovers, except we rarely HAVE any meat leftovers, because he always eats all the meat at dinner.

** This photo is from Cubby's Mardi Gras birthday party, thus the necklace.