on rolling snake eyes at the Monte Carlo casino

Four years ago today I married a man who is so retentive he stacks the salad forks facing one way in the cutlery cabinet and the dinner forks parallel, tines North instead of South, as is the case with the smaller variety. This is the same man who could not close a clothes drawer or an armoire door if his life depended on it, thus allowing the cats free reign to peruse and play and jettison their dander over every pair of black pants I own, which is a lot, since we all know black is the most slimming.

Four years ago today I married a man whose pleasant nature and heartfelt sincerity can be witnessed in every picture in which he gives the “thumbs up” (even the one where he is drunk, at the bottom of our jet tub at the Percy apartment, just having fallen in it. The guy can’t stand, but apparently can react so quickly upon seeing a camera point in his general direction that he remembers to offer his signature pose. Amazing.) This is the same man who cannot watch a scary movie for fear of nightmares, but on the day his son was born, braced himself on the hospital bed rails, held my hand, and witnessed the birth of his first child, a child who in a solitary moment took us from being a couple and made us into a family.

Four years ago today I married a man who, if there was any doubt that he could be called a man back then at the tender age of 26, can surely be called one now. A man who slaves and strives everyday to better himself so that his family has the best that life can offer, a man who rushes home every night for kisses from his son, a man who treats his wife better than she deserves to be, who makes her feel that she is loved unconditionally, who makes her weep with gratitude at the thought of what their family’s become, what their family promises to someday be.

Four years ago today I married a man who is my best friend, and it was the best thing I’ve ever done with my life.