Seven years ago today, Papa and I were married, in the pines of south Georgia on his grandmother's land. Today we have a house, two babies, two dogs, two careers, and more happiness than two hearts can hold. A few years ago (I think it was our fourth anniversary), we decided to spend one dollar per year of marriage on our anniversary gifts to each other. This saves money and requires a considerable amount more thought than a traditional gift. On last weekend's yard sale expedition, I had my eyes keenly peeled for something that called Papa's name.
I found it. This humidifying cigar box was only $3. Papa enjoys a good cigar when we return to south Georgia, and since we are going there in a few days for Easter, the timing was perfect.
I went to our local cigar store today, and saw that there was a big jump in quality between what I could buy for my remaining $4, and what I could get for the original $7. I decided that the box, after all, is actually the giftwrap, and I should be allowed the whole $7 for the cigar. I told the aficionado I'd like the best I could get for $7, and when he handed me a Romeo y Julieta Aniversario, I knew it was meant to be.Papa's allowance could not have been spent more romantically. He surprised me by arranging childcare (thank you Noni!) for a sweet hour at the beach this evening, and replicating a sunrise picnic he prepared for me when we were dating: yogurt, granola, and fresh fruit. This time he added dark chocolate and two cold beers, for an unusually indulgent break from our day. Happy Anniversary, Papa. This year I add seven words to my seven dollars: I love you with all my heart.