Friday, October 7, 2011


When I was 28, I decided I would finally marry the guy I had been hanging out with since high school. We had been living together for 2 years and it seemed like the right time to make it official.

So when he said, "Why not?" one Sunday in September, I let him know that I was not playing. If we were gonna do it, he had to be serious.

The following Monday, I secretly made an appointment at the courthouse. I got all of the information, all of the prices. The only day that we both had off in the near future was my birthday.

I called and let him know and he agreed.

Over the next two weeks, we giggled about our secret. We told his parents first, although they chose not to believe us.

I called and told my dad, who, of course assumed that a) I was knocked up and b) that he was a drug dealer (sigh, I am from the South after all).

And on rainy Friday morning, the 7th of October, we went to the courthouse and got hitched.

I am glad that we did it, finally. I am happy to share my birthday with my wedding day (although the older I get the more childish it seems).

But there are things I wish the world would know.

I did not get married on my birthday to make it easier on my husband.

He did not marry me on my birthday to get out of giving me two gifts.

We did it because it was convenient, because all of our vacation had already been used up for the year and this was the only day that we could do it without having to lose pay.

Not that it really should matter. It's my birthaversary, not yours.

Besides, my momma must've liked it - she did the same thing 3 years later.

P.S. I will not be sad if my kid decides to run off to the courthouse and get married. My parents did it and they were married for 21 years, her dad and I did it, - it's kind of a family tradition at this point.

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