eInsomnia

Funny how you can try to plan out the perfect day to share with that very special someone in order to either a.) make up for some horrible wrong-doing or b.) celebrate a date in history that holds a very special place in the hearts of at least two people (yes, make that 3, Gavin).

Today I took off work in order to honor my seven years of marriage to The Wife. I had big plans (Pro Football Hall of Fame anyone? lol). But seriously, breakfast in bed, a nice walk through the beauty of autumn in Cleveland, dinner at one of our favorite restaraunts and maybe, just maybe a late-night chat with drinks in hand, a warm fire burning and the “American Standards” XM station in the background. hmmmm …

Well, we made it to the drinks, fireplace and XM radio in the background, but damn if we missed pretty much everything else.

Seems our near-century house had other plans. I spent the day on my hands and knees outside looking for any pencil-sized hole a mouse could crawl through (yes, pencil-sized. Look it up). On top of that we need much work done on our 20-year old boiler. And if you’ve spent any time in Cleveland you’d know you must have heat in the winter (or in this case, October with a baby).

So, all romance aside, The Wife and I spent the entire day pulling cabinets away from the walls in the kitchen and plugging holes with steel wool. Needless to say, it proved an unromantic day all around.

But then. Once the work was done and baby asleep in his crib, we sat and talked. Reminisced about the last seven years and … well we smiled a lot (it was the scotch). And in those moments, with candles burning in the fireplace and the voice of Sinatra bellowing from the living room speakers, we thought of all those seven years and the fantastic ride we’ve been on.

And at that point — mouse holes, blown boiler and all —  I could think of no place more perfect than our home

Happy anniversary Sarah. I love you.