eight

So, um. Last weekend, Sunday to be exact, was the day we’d been married eight years. And I would have blogged something, except I spent the day sick as a dog and cursing fair food. Funnel cakes taste amazing, but are of the devil. Trust me. I ate most of ours, along with half a bag of blue cotton candy. Thank goodness the fair only comes once a year. Here’s hoping the next anniversary doesn’t involve a puke bucket.

Thanks to my brother, Mike, for the photo.