April 5, 1995.
The day a skinny boy with red cheeks asked a poor, chubby girl to be his girlfriend. And we've never looked back. Our lips have never kissed another set of lips. "I break up" has never been spoken. I have known I was going to marry him since the day I first saw him in my first hour class on our first day of junior high. He IS my one and only. For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer. In sickness and in health. Til death do us part.
He is a wonderful husband, no doubt. He keeps me warm because I'm always freezing. He does laundry when I don't. And he looks incredibly hot in his bunker gear.
And he has morphed from wonderful husband to perfect daddy. He never says no to pushing Faith on her swing, he teaches her how to fix things, and he goes in her room EVERY morning and prays over her before he leaves.
And I know that our real anniversary is the day we got married, but April 5th is the day that changed my life forever.