My wife and I got married three times. The first time was ten years ago today. Here's a picture of us on our first date. We were married three months later.
In a small public park in Delaware my wife and I were married. We showed up at the park to meet the judge. He said "where are your witnesses?"
"Witnesses? Um..." I had totally forgotten we needed witnesses.
"You're going to need two folks to sign your certificate and give their details."
"Ok, hang on." I ran over to the jogging path at the park and stopped the first two people that ran by.
"Hi, I know this is weird, but we're getting married and we need two witnesses. Do you have a minute?"
We got married right there under a big tree with a judge and two joggers. Afterwards we went to Friendly's for dinner. It was glorious and wonderful.
Officially married on paper, we moved into together and started planning our White Wedding. Everyone was there.
We worked together in the design of the wedding. I searched the web for "Scottish Interracial Cake Topper" and we had a custom one made for the cake. It had tiny classes and a goatee as well as tiny African cloth in a design that matched Mo's hair wrap and bouquet.
We did the whole thing on the cheap, but it looked like a million bucks. Used dress, MP3s for DJs and burned CDs for party favors. To this day we both pride ourselves on making the old look like new.
A tiny asterisk said "Mo and Scott were married last year in a private civil ceremony." To this day I still get my anniversary dates confused.
We went to Zimbabwe to settle lobola. One day while there I was padding into the bathroom to take a bath and when I opened the door I noticed there was a goat in the tub. I closed the door and reopened it just to check. Yep, goat. Not knowing exactly what was going on, I decided to go back to bed. A few hours later I came out, went to the tub and, no goat.
After a bath I joined the family for breakfast. They made a big deal about giving me some special meat for breakfast. It was the bathtub goat. Unfortunately I said no thanks, and ten years later this faux pas haunts me. Pro tip: Eat what's offered to you. Of course, this was just the first of a thousand cultural goats, I mean, goofs, and I'm sure there will be a thousand more.
It's been ten years, two boys, three houses, three jobs, three college degrees, dozens of trips, two filled passports, one new citizenship, and seven (voluntary) viewings of Love Actually.
Happy Tenth Anniversary, Small Wife.