three years

Dear Nuv,

In celebration of today, our third wedding anniversary, and the last one where it will be just the two of us and we can sleep in until 2:30 pm if it just so happens that way, here is a little tribute to you, my favourite dude in the entire world. A little ditty I like to call, 'Why This Has Been The Best Three Years Of My Life.'

You look great, even when soggy, and if I’d been at this show, I would have licked your penis forever.


You wear a leather jacket like no other.

Watching you with our tiny nieces makes me so goddamn impatient to see you with our little dude/dudette. If I thought I loved you more than I can handle now, my poor heart is gonna be taxed come September.

You always make me feel safe and protected.

Your friends, such an amazing group of funny, fun, kind and creative guys, have now become my friends, for which I am so rich and thankful for.

The way you love and respect your Mom. And can multi-task while doing so.

The speech you gave at Biji’s funeral that shredded my heart.

I can never remember if you love the Dodge Challenger or Charger but rest assured if we won the lottery, I’d ask you before buying the wrong one.

How humble you remain despite being so handsome, intelligent and talented.

You’ve accepted my 90 tooth smile, and faults and fears and weaknesses, and have made me tougher, more confident and comfortable in my own skin.

The amazing family I gained by being with you.

How you love my family as your own.

How surprised I was the night you asked me to marry you. I seriously had no idea, and that made it triple time magical.

You have never been more boneable than on June 30, 2007.

This look on my face, almost spastic with joy, after you were officially mine.

So, I forgot to check with Hallmark but I believe the traditional third year gift is a solid week of not giving your wife a hard time about her messy desk, or for liking System of a Down and Ryan Gosling.

In turn, I promise to not cut you off mid-sentence, to not crash hard at 9:30 pm tonight and leave you alone with hotel porn, and to make up for all the pancakes I owe you.

This year ahead is going to be fucking ridiculous - a road strewn with no sleep, high emotion and more shit-filled diapers than one apartment should rightfully contain. But with you beside me, holding my hand, I know it’s gonna be alright. I love you, sweet guy. Happy Anniversary.