i don't even know where to begin. it's kind of a funny story; but to be honest, i don't have the energy to write all the details.
it went pretty much like this:
this weekend was our 13th wedding anniversary. it didn't go so great. sam was late. i was mad.
i felt like he didn't give a crap about me. i cried. he back peddled a bit, i still cried. he was trying. i was exhausted, hungry and just ticked off that he had been out waterskiing all afternoon. yes, waterskiing with friends, or should i say "his precious work team" while i was home being a mom.
he felt bad. he should.
i was confused at why i was so upset. it wasn't even that time of the month.
i didn't ask for much, just a quiet night alone together at a restaurant.
on his way home, he knew he was in big trouble. he set up reservations at a really nice restaurant and tried to take me to the mall to pick out something nice for myself.
i appreciated the gesture, but i looked like a puffy-eyed scary hag. i didn't feel like going someplace nice at all. i barely agreed to leave the house.
we ended up at friday's and then saw a movie.
i wonder if our babysitter sensed the tension, lol.
i laugh i'm still trying to laugh about it now... after thirteen years of marriage and four kids later, i realize big fancy gifts or trips are not happening, but he was late.
it happens to the best of us right?
this is real life people.
it's okay. i still love him. we'll be fine.
picture taken at strawberry reservoir while on our general conference field trip by my dad.