My husband and I celebrated our thirteenth anniversary together not too long ago.
Gentle reader, I must admit that I like being married, at least to my husband. (Have you ever stared at your married friends and thought, “How did that happen?” I know that I’m not the only who does this.)
I also like being married for thirteen years. At first glance it seems unlucky, but actually it’s the best. You’ve been married long enough to know what you’re doing, most of the kinks have been worked out, but you’re still young enough of a couple that you don’t take each other completely for granted.
This year for our anniversary my husband did the most romantic and loving thing of all time: he bought me half a cow. That’s right, four hundred and twenty five pounds of delicious steaks, roasts, soup bones, and ground meat.
Nothing says love like beef, baby.
The butcher shop also threw in half a hog, for free. At first I thought it was because we’re such a cute couple- buying meat for our anniversary and all- but no, they do that for everyone. <sound of head deflating.>
This weekend our beef and pork were ready for pick up. My first clue that I was going to be overrun with meaty goodness should have been when my husband took out two seats in our mini-van in order to get all ten boxes of meaty goodness to fit inside.
The second clue was that there were ten boxes of meaty goodness to pick up.
The third clue was when we finally shoved all the beef into our chest freezer with just a few inches of room left, gave each other high fives, and then discovered that we still had to find room for all the pork still. (I confess to you, gentle reader, that I had a little bit of pork panic at that point.)
I made a few phone-calls, shared our beef-tastic good deal with a few friends, and managed to get everything to fit. Finally. And to enjoy the fruit of our labors, today (and no doubt the next twenty Sundays) we are eating roast beef.
It’s good to be married to the right person. Beef- not only is it what’s for dinner, but it’s the way to my heart.