As my 10-year wedding anniversary approaches, I wanted to share an older column.
It’s all a matter of perspective. My wife claims that she’s sentimental and I’m not. She’s not entirely correct. I’m sentimental, but not about the same things or to the extent she is. I know my wedding anniversary—let’s not dwell on the fact we’ve only been married a couple of years—and her birthday. To me this should suffice. However, my wife feels I should remember every milestone from when we first started dating. I thought there was an unwritten rule that you no longer celebrate dating anniversaries after marriage. My wife, apparently, does not subscribe to the same marriage manual I do.
However, I’m fine with that. If she wants to celebrate the first time we kissed, each year, then that’s okay. As long as she can provide me with that date, I’m willing to celebrate it – I’m not anti-celebration. I’ll buy flowers, chocolates and a sweet greeting card. I can be romantic and spontaneous when reminded.
“That’s the problem. I shouldn’t have to remind you,” my wife laments. I’m confused, though. She knows I can barely remember where I left my wallet or my car keys. How can I possibly remember a date that occurred five years ago? She then gently (or not so gently) reminds me that I can recall every game of the 1986 World Series as if it occurred yesterday. She has a point.
“Yes, honey, but that’s an important remembrance from my teenage years.”
“And our first kiss was not important?”
It was important to me. However, I didn’t have a cell phone back then, so I had no place to record it. That’s where men put all their important dates—at least I do. I usually keep this argument to myself. I’m already on dangerous ground. Besides, if I say anymore, she’ll purposely remind me of what I said during the fourth quarter of Monday Night Football.
I also happen to think if she can choose certain anniversaries for us to celebrate, I should be able to choose a few as well. In fact, I already have a couple in mind. Our first baseball game together is certainly first on my list—even though a beer was dumped on her. Second, but equally as important, is the first time she yelled at me for channel surfing with the remote control. (I learned a valuable lesson.)
I know the chances of these getting onto her kitchen calendar or engrained into her memory are slim. However, I believe they are important dates and I will celebrate them in my own way—alone and in the corner of my basement. Besides, they are already in my cell phone.
Copyright © 2010, Brad Manzo