In sickness, health and inaccurate measurements...

The ball and chain (B&C) and I celebrated 18 years of wedded bliss last Thursday. So thrilled was he that he booked himself on a little business trip to Washington DC. I wasn't too bothered about that, it was the fact that he got up at 4.30am to catch a 6am flight that irked. I never really get back to sleep after that, and the earthquake at about the same time the next morning had me totally knackered by the end of the week.
Anyway, my mother was a little worried that we were more or less ignoring our anniversary. I think she is reading too much into it personally; it's not like a 10th or a 20th. Anyway, I jokingly said we would have a nice dinner on the Friday evening and renew our vows. Now, if you knew me and my beloved, we are about the last people on the planet that would go in for such sloppery, I mean publicly displayed sentiment. However, my mother clasped her hands together and said "Ooh, how lovely". Hmmm. How to get out of this?
Bingo - I would write the vows my husband would recite, and he would do mine. At this suggestion my husband looked like he was either going to burst into tears or flee the country, but I insisted. (Given that he was disappearing for the actual day, he hadn't a leg to stand on really.)

So, that Friday evening B&C pledged thus, (with my help of course)-

I promise:

- to measure accurately before venturing near Home Depot (B&Q). (We have more screws, shelves and light bulbs lying around than Home Depot itself, because they come back too long, short etc and are never taken back.)
- to make sure friends and family are downwind before I "cut the cheese". (Hubby is the personification of "silent but deadly" and even if you're outside, it's truly traumatic. I also learned the phrase "cut the cheese" from my 12 year old, but apparently it's been around for decades.)
- to tuck no more than 50% of the marital sheets between my knees or under my chin. (Not quite sure why he does this but I frequently wake up with the sheets diagonally slashed across my body. In the early days I used to gently pull yards of my side of the sheet from his clutches, but now I just yank and teach him a lesson.)
- to improve my English accent or henceforth resist all urges. (Like many Americans, he ends up sounding like the Queen Mother on steroids or a member of Monty Python. Mind you, most of my American accents are pathetic although I do a mean Texan.)

Lest this post get too long-winded, (oops too late), I will post the rest next time.