It’s the one week anniversary of my April 1 wedding anniversary! Figured it was time for a recap…
Who would have guessed back in 1995 that the big 2-5 would be the pandemic anniversary. There’s not really a gift for that. But, fun fact: The traditional first anniversary gift is paper. Naturally I gave my husband a giant pack of Costco toilet paper, which would be a super great gift right now.
So what does celebrating a significant anniversary during a world-wide shutdown look like? Definely no eating at a fancy-dancy restaurant. No sequins, no high heels — for me, either.
It was, actually, a pretty perfect and on-brand celebration.
We wore our WFH* clothes (except WITH pants) and ordered one of our favorite dishes — jerk pork with black beans and habanero cranberry chutney — for takeout. Then we had a traditional, downtown urban picnic — authentic right down to the poop on the sidewalk.
He’d cleared things ahead of time for us to use the patio at his building and we fanned a tablecloth over half of a ping-pong table, propped up two folding chairs, plunked down some battery-powered candles, fired up a clip-on backpack speaker and, ta da, a perfect pandemic spread.
After dinner, we shuffled around to the song we danced at at our wedding, which was 13.5 minutes longer than I remembered.
And, just to show we’ve been married for many, many, many years (Read: We no longer talk to each other) — we bought almost identical chocolate cakes with fudge and raspberry filling from the same bakery. When I was actually picking up *my* cake, I saw *his* in the case, and it caught my eye because of the toilet paper and hand sanitizer decorations.
“That’s funny,” I told the girl who rang up my order, which included, ahem, a few other things.
A couple of hours later my husband walked through the front door holding a bakery box — with that exact cake inside.
“Guess we should coordinate,” he said, smiling.
The kids all heartily disagreed.
“No way! More cake is always better.”
Easy for them to say — they all still have the metabolisms of hyperactive squirrels.
*WFH = Working From Home, although I keep thinking there should be a way to incorporate the ‘f’ word in there like maybe it should really stand for WHAT?! FUCKING HOUSE ARREST?!?!?!