Fifteen years of (mostly) bliss

Mikey and I celebrated the 15th anniversary of our first date yesterday, which also happened to be our 11th wedding anniversary.

The three of us went out for insanely expensive steak dinner at the Deep Fork and, on the way home, Mikey groaned that his belly was too full. "Me, too," I said. Then, from the back seat, piped up a sweet little voice, "Me, three!" Which is not ordinarily all that funny, but it was the first time we'd ever heard Britt say it, and in proper context, too! So, we died.

Back at home, we cracked open our semi-annual bottle of Moët and Britt toasted us with chocolate milk. And then she demanded that we show her how to do armpit farts. Unfortunately, neither Mikey nor I ever mastered that particular skill so, after much flailing about like broken-winged chickens, we decided that her daddy will have to be the one to teach her.

And that's how we spent our anniversary. Nothing terribly exciting, but we had fun.