1,826 days.

Five years ago today, I became Mrs. Keller.

Lucky was I, that day.

I think I always knew I would marry someone I grew up with; for me good friendship always came first. And it's come in handy through the thick and thin of things, and we're just five years in. We'll need it more and more tomorrow, and the next day after that. And I'd like to think it's what we'll lean on when we're old and gray.

Once upon a time, in our younger years, we had a solid distaste for each other. And that's putting it nicely. (I used to use the word 'hate'.) The next thing I knew, he owned three suits, was gone for two years, then came back so cute. Somehow, magically, we grew into reason. Liked each other. Loved each other. Then, one night, he told me he put a ring in the jockey box and it was for me.

We've made homes together; three of them to be exact. We've had four cars, one awful dog, and the most delicious, blue-eyed boy (we've) ever seen.

Mr. Keller's been bit (during labor), punched (during fights), kicked in the junk (for fun), been called names, and had the door slammed in his face (more than once). (Deserving, every time!) But we always make up.

Mostly, because I love the birth mark on the side of his face. And I love his dark hair. And I love watching him from a distance, talk to other people.

I think he's cute when he smiles. And I like when he makes me laugh. Like really hard sometimes. Even when I'm mad, which is really rather annoying when I'm trying to prove a point. But most of the time it's just ridiculous. Like years ago, when I was pregnant, I was cutting his hair for the first time, and I shaved the sides into a mullet, without him knowing it, and I may or may not have been 'this close, to being this close' to peeing my panties. If I had a dime for every time he's made me laugh that hard....

If I had a dime for every time he's kissed my forehead, or pinched my bottom.

I'm a rich woman. And life is good.

Five years ago today, I became Mrs. Keller.