Four is fruit and flowers. And it’s bruised peaches and a vase full of slimy water. It’s comfortable, and has growing pains. It’s early weekend mornings in bed, listening to the baby babble. It’s late nights with monitors and headphones. It’s your socks on the floor, and my feet in your hands. It’s my hair clogging the drain, and trimming your buzz cut. It’s deep breaths, and small kindnesses. It’s knowing how I like my pancakes, and how you like your rum and coke. It’s agreeing to disagree. It’s the day-to-day, and the ooh la la. It’s your side and my side, and it’s meeting in the middle. It’s looking behind, and looking ahead, and celebrating where we are.
Happy anniversary, my love.
Photo courtesy of Michelle Haurilak Photography