|Sometime I look at pictures of young Ryan and feel bad. Because that dashing young man is in for a world of crazy.|
By January 5th, 2012 this sweet girl has somehow morphed into the awkward shameless, smells peculiarly like pickles, puddle that is me. And yet, blogstalkers, Ryan Gallagher wouldn't change one thing. He is supremely happy. And never comments on this blog so no one will know if that is not the truth.
This girl on the other hand, has some suggestions on making the next ten years better than the last ten years.
So for his anniversary gift (yes I totally do make him celebrate this anniversary as well as our wedding anniversary as well as the anniversary of the day he proposed as well as my half birthday as well as the anniversary of the day I first tasted goat cheese (that day CHANGED MY LIFE blogstalkers)) I have written my husband a letter.
You are welcome Ryan. I really hope for your sake my present is made out of gemstones or babies or more credit cards since the other one you gave me is getting pretty close to the limit.
But anyway, if you're interested, here's the letter.
My Darling Ryan,
Ten years. Wow. Can you believe it? Yeah me neither. I was actually pretty sure we were done-zo that one day like five years ago when you suggested I look into toe-shortening surgery for my awkwardly-longer-than-my-big-toe second toe. (It's a sign of intellingence RYAN, my mom told me that.) But anyway, I persevered and here we are, all sorts of married and trying to have babies.
Shhh Ryan, don't say anything yet, just read the rest of the letter.
So while I have enjoyed our time together so far, I have just a couple of requests for the years to come.
First, if I some random day in the future (not yesterday that's for sure) accidentally, ever-so-slightly, gently brush the car against the wall while parallel parking at Target, please forgive me.
Second, ever since I bought the dogs winter sweaters at Target yesterday it has started to disconcert me that even they wear shirts more often than you do. I totally get the topless thing when you're eating cherries, I know that you've ruined many a good shirt with their sweet sweet juice, but when we're just sitting around watching Project Runway, maybe shirt-up.
|It's actually harder to find pictures of Ryan wearing a shirt than not. Case in point.|
Third, and I really feel like we've had this conversation before after you told me I had a mustache, but could you please stop saying things to me like "The only things you are better than me at are reading, typing, and maybe sewing, but I don’t know, because I’ve never tried sewing." (Although I will readily admit that you are better than me at driving.)
Fourth, Kindly remove the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show from the DVR. It's been on there for like three months. And I do not believe that you just have not watched it yet. And I do not believe that you only like it because the music is good.
Fifth, it is rude to take a picture every day of exactly how you left your razor in the shower to prove that I use your razor. Wives are allowed to share their husbands razors. It is in the marriage manual I wrote for you. Also, we need more razor refills. I would totally get them, but like I said, there's really not that much room left on that credit card you gave me (dog sweaters and good cheese do not come cheap.)
Sixth, I'm so confused as to why I am the one that has to chop all of the onions for dinner. Onions make me cry Ryan, and it should really be your ultimate mission in life to make sure I never cry. Seriously, I'm done chopping onions.
In conclusion, I heart you. I heart these last ten years. I wouldn't change a thing. Except for the things listed above. Those things for sure need to change.
Also, could you stop pretending like you actually think my birthday is today and Saturday is our anniversary. I know you remember which is which. I've been reminding you on facebook for days.
Also, I left a Tiffany catalogue on your computer in case you wanted to peruse it when you get home today.
|Hey Ryan remember when you told me that you tried to buy tickets to prom too late and they were all sold out? And then let me believe that for an entire class period? Because I do.|
|This is what I fell in love with. High school girls eat your hearts out.|