This isn't supposed to happen for another 20 years

S called me at work last night:

Me: Hello?
S: Hey!
Me: if you're calling to tell me what's happening on Survivor, you're too late. Linda beat you to it.
S: What? No...
Me: So...
S; What's today's date?
Me: (eye roll) The 6th, why?
S: And?
Me: And what? (I hate when he does this, which is all the time)
S: And what was Tuesday's date?
Me: Oh for crying out loud (so my grandma there)! It was the 4th, you called to ask me that?
S: No, no. Think about it.
Me: ...
S: ...
Me: ...um...OH MY GOD!
S: Happy Anniversary to you to Honey.

Yes, internet I, a red-blooded woman, have forgotten my wedding anniversary. S did too, but he gets bonus points for remembering before I did. I'm thinking frantically now about Tuesday. Was it special in any way? Let's see, S slept all day, fighting off the adverse reaction to the antibiotics for his finger (more on that later), I cleaned the house and chased after Lexie, oh and made a lovely meal of Tuna and Noodles.

So classy, so romantic.

It's been two wild and crazy years. S, I love you. Or I lub you, as so fondly giggled 4 years ago.