I am a firm believer that life is to be celebrated. The big things, the small things... celebrate. New job? Good grade on a test? Lose a tooth? The end of a semester? The third anniversary of the first time you ate cheesecake?
Celebrate.
Clearly, God was well aware of this tendency of mine when He placed the Mr. in my life. This man - without fail - has remembered and celebrated the 10th day of every month since our wedding day as our "month-iversary." (Technically it's called "mensiversary," but ew. No thanks.) And before that, we celebrated the 30th of each month (yes, the official day we started dating). This guy knows how to celebrate.
ANYWAY, what I am trying to get at is that -big or small- events in our relationship have always been celebrated.
January 17 is one such day. On January 17, 2009, the Mr. took me out on our first date ever. We had been friends for just over a month, and -let there be no doubt- there was a clear mutual attraction.
Oddly enough, (and in typical overthinking-girl-fashion) I wondered during the entire night whether this was a "date" or not. After finding out our shared love of sushi earlier in the week, he had planned a dinner out to one of the best sushi places in town. We lingered over California Rolls (which really aren't sushi), Tiger Rolls, and Shrimp Tempura. We talked about our pasts, our futures, our faith, our families...
It was during that dinner, I had an inkling that he was... *drum roll, please* ...the one.
After dinner, he whisked me off to experience the most platonic, but also most date-like activity: Miniature Golf. While I had spent the last hours learning more about his character, his love for the Lord, his love for his family, and other serious stuff like that, I now got to learn more about how much gosh darn fun he is.
We finished off the night with a stop by our college ice rink to cheer on our hockey team to victory, surrounded by some of our closest friends. And, while it wasn't another 2 weeks until we were officially dating (after he'd secured my dad's blessing), I couldn't help but be swept away by this man.
So, friends, that is why - three years later - we still celebrate January 17. And this year? Well, I've got a little something up my sleeve about which my sweet guy has no idea. Can't wait!
Happy Monday.
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