Twenty years ago today we went out on our first date.
I was fourteen. You were sixteen.
I was so excited!
But I was cool. You know.
On the outside.
You came and picked me up from my parent’s house at 4 o’clock in the afternoon.
We were going to the cinema to see “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels”.
We travelled on the bus where we sat upstairs at the front.
You made some stupid joke as the bus passed a cemetary.
You said it was the dead centre of town.
Our hands brushed and then they clasped onto eachtother letting go only if absolutely necessary otherwise we’d have died immediately.
Then, no doubt, we’d have ended up in the dead centre of town. *Sigh*.
We went to see the film.
Then we went to KFC.
Then you took me home.
Michael, I just want to tell you something.
The joke wasn’t very funny then.
I still don’t find it very funny now.
Despite you repeating it most times we pass a cemetary.
Hearing the same joke for twenty years doesn’t make it funnier.
One more thing.
I cannot stand Michael Caine.
I didn’t enjoy Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. I don’t much remember it to be honest.
And since I have your attention can I just add…
I do not eat chicken. Hence opting for the corn on the cob at KFC and trying to pick sweetcorn out of my teeth for the rest of our date.
Did I impress you?
Still, something must have gone right (eventually. There were ups and downs in between).
Because here we are.
And to celebrate our anniversary I made you a cake.
But because it’s my special time of the month I couldn’t decide what cake I wanted to make, so ended up making a chocolate box filled with an eggless sponge, topped with buttercream and icing.
And then I ate most of it.
Happy Anniversary anyway.
love from your wonderful wife,