the fifth

Dec. 21 is our anniversary. We were married on a cold Thursday night, stamping snow off our boots and cozying up next to the fireplace at a B&B with family and friends. My maid of honor was my sister-in-law; his best man, my brother. His most vivid memory was burning his hand with hot wax during the ceremony and managing not to curse. Mine is the exploding wine bottle when I moved it from the chilly trunk of a car (where it had sat for hours) to a warm hotel lobby. We're planning something simple tonight--out to dinner, with L strapped to a highchair next to us. I love being married to my best friend.