Yesterday was our wedding anniversary.

Flushed with my success at actually remembering, I gave she who must be obeyed a big hug and said “thank you for three interesting years”, which I thought was pithy, if not overly romantic. She responded with “thank you for three interesting, wonderful, loving, caring, happy years”, which simultaneously made me feel good, and a bit of a shit for not being similarly effusive.

Still, I recovered the situation by mumbling “yeah, and that too”, which I am sure did the trick.

Then there was the present. Or not. I checked the web and discovered that three years is the “leather anniversary”. I was hoping for tin or reconstituted wood pulp; leather led inexorably to shoes or handbags, and no way was I heading in that direction. But I did buy her dinner at Alois, which is almost exactly the same as Brunos only in a different location; and somehow not as good.

Who said romance was dead? She who must be obeyed, probably.