seventeen

about a month before our anniversary is when we start in with all the talking. the let's-get-dressed-up-and-go-someplace-really-nice-for-dinner talking. the let's-really-do-this-thing-up-right talking. we go back and forth on the where and the when and we get all excited because surely it will happen this year. surely, one of us will pull it together. and then I think maybe he waits for me to plan it and okay, I sort of I wait for him to plan it and the whole time, we're talking about how epic it will be. both of us thinking the night will somehow magically pull itself together. and then it's the week of our anniversary and we are still just talking. we realize we do not have a plan. we do not have reservations, we do not have a babysitter. most importantly, we do not have a cute anniversary dress. this is also when we realize something else. we are big talkers.

and so this is how we ended up at the coast last weekend for our 17th wedding anniversary. squirrelly kids and giant beach towels and tubes of sunscreen and a whole mess of plastic sand toys in tow. not exactly what we had in mind but this would not be the first time. not that the beach is even remotely any sort of punishment but you know. hello, sweaty sunburnt skin. hello, grouchy over-tired children. hello, sand in unwelcome places. again, not exactly what we'd originally had in mind. but real. and strangely perfect.

so, mexican for dinner, saltwater taffy for dessert. kids playing in the sand while the sun set on the pacific ocean. and us. at the end of the day, us. and if that's how the anniversaries go down from here on out, I'll take it.