3650 days of marriage.

Kenny and I are honing in on our ten-year wedding anniversary.  Impossible!!  No WAY!!  Yes, folks, it's true.  In August, we will celebrate our 3,650th day of marriage.  That's a whole lot of days.

Minus that one year that I birthed a baby on our special day, we have never exchanged a single anniversary gift.  We're not exactly what you'd call a 'sentimental couple.'  We're basically happy with each day as it is.  And not that kind of happy that calls for inspirational quotes to describe our lives.  Not the happy where we have to shout to the world each living day that we are so, so, so, so, so happy and lucky and in love just to prove it to ourselves.  I mean real happy.  That happy where we have to do the dishes sometimes twice in one day because our children need a different plate for each serving of food, but it's okay because it gives us a chance to stand side by side and talk and laugh and maybe have a water fight.  Or the kind of happy where somebody ate the last ice cream bar but nobody will admit to it, so we have a full-family tickle-torture fiasco until someone fesses up (even if they aren't guilty) just to stop the madness.

Oh great, now I've gone and confessed my twisted happiness.  Shoot.

I'm getting totally off track.  Ten years is BIG.  With the rate of divorce being what it is, I suppose each year of marriage is big.  Heck, each day even.  But ten is such a popular number that it makes me feel like I should do something.  I'm a horrible gift-giver.  Here are the impossible and irrational ideas I have come up with thus far:

-A thunderstorm.  Kenny LOVES thunderstorms.
-Kenny bobblehead.
-White lion (because one time at the zoo, he said, "That lion's pretty."  So he must want one.)
-A town named Kennyville.
-A full-sized house hand-built by me, made from love, time and recycled beer cans.

As you can see, I need some major help.  Long gone are the days that I can impress my husband by reciting the preamble or The Lorax by memory.  He knows what I know and who I am and every mood I've ever been in and every feeling I've ever felt.  How to impress somebody like that?  I need to do something new.  But not crazy new, like skydiving.  Me, clinging to the front seat of an airplane with both arms and legs wrapped around it, screaming that I'm not ready to die would actually be quite unimpressive.  So what then?

You think on it.  I'll think on it.  We'll meet back here in one month with our ideas for Operation: Happy Husband.  Or...I suppose you could just comment your ideas below.  Yeah.  Yeah, that'd be better.  Do that.  Please and thank you.