The other day I celebrated 22 years of marital bliss to my dear husband, Sane Man. Well, bliss might not be the word, but he does put up with me, and aside from being sane, the man's a saint. I mean, if you had to be married to me, you WOULD understand.
So we're old now. We really had no big plans for our special day. We did go out to dinner and that was really it. We couldn't think of anything else to do. All we did was stop at the drug store to get my son some medicine and get gas. How romantic.
There was one thing I did want to do for my anniversary, get my engagement ring fixed. You see, I'd lost the diamond out of it (it's okay, I found it), and I wanted to take it to the jewelers. I did take it with me, but the place we bought it is no longer there, and we weren't sure where to take it. It got to be late so we never got to it. (You know all that getting gas and drugs takes time.)
Anyway, I got home and decided that I should probably get my wedding band enlarged a little as it is quite tight. While I was thinking of it, I decided to take it off and put it with my engagement ring. Well, boy was it stuck on there. My poor finger was actually suffocating. I got out the Vaseline. I ran my hand under cold water. I twisted and pulled. But I could barely budge it. This is when my dear husband decided to get involved.
Sane Man: You'd better let me help you get that off.
Me: NO! I can do it. It already hurts enough.
Sane Man: Your finger is turning purple. You're cutting off your circulation.
Me: I can do it.
Sane Man: You're not doing it.
Me: But it will hurt.
Sane Man: You need to get it off. It won't hurt that bad.
Me: Okay. I guess. But, please don't hurt me too much.
Sane Man: Come here. (Starts pulling.)
Sane Man: It's off. That wasn't that bad, was it?
Me: It was like giving birth.
Then I had to think about it for a minute. Just how many women spend their anniversary having their husbands rip their wedding rings off? Not many I hope! :)