Mr. Waffle and I celebrated our 12th anniversary on July 28th. This post is a little late. Your point?
Let me tell you a story about our first Christmas together. We had only met in November and I didn’t want to make a large investment in Christmas presents. I am not sure why I was so concerned because, in retrospect, we were probably singly and jointly as rich as or richer than we have been at any point since [do you think my training in legal drafting has come out a bit in this sentence?]. So, I said, “I think we should put a limit on the amount we spend on Christmas presents and not go overboard.” I cannot remember what the limit was but I imagine of the order of 20 quid or the equivalent in Belgian francs. Did you know that Belgium brought us together? Well, it did.
Anyhow, I’m not sure whether he thought it was weird or not [it is the kind of thing his mother would do] but he agreed. When it came to time to exchange Christmas presents, he pulled out a framed picture of W.B. Yeats’s poem “He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven“. I discovered that he had taught himself calligraphy as a teenager. He had written out the poem and framed it. It was a really beautiful and personal present. It is still hanging up in our house. I think I got him a CD.
Reader, is it any wonder I married him?
