75!

That's right. Seventy-five days of wedded bliss. Or funf-und-zebzig for all you GERMANS out there.
Although I dont know if it counts though because 14 of those days I have spent married to Annie, my favorite co-army bride while our beloveds galavant around the world. So maybe I have only been really married for sixty one days, which is the actual number of days we have had to put up with each other.

It just occured to me that if army married life keeps going this way, I will be celebrating my silver anniversary in about 37 years. Which means I shouldn't hold my breath for that anniversary band because it wont fit over my ancient, arthritised fingers or do my liver spots any kind of justice.

But so far so good really. Im adjusting to fun facts like that my bed mate reaches blood boiling levels in his sleep, which means that even though there is an open window and a fan I just need him and his creepy hot hands on his own side of the bed, pleaseandthankyou. And that my pantry, once stocked with organic granola and fair trade black coffee is now an homage to every saturated fat that Nabisco ever dreamed up. Or that, surprise! I find it incredibly irritating when someone leaves peanut butter covered dishes to crust over in the sink.

And Geoff, in turn, is becoming accustomed to the fact that he married a CRAZY PERSON who yells at him for things like peanut butter dishes and the fact that his creepy hot hands are on her side of the bed, and that makes him buy embarassing, unmanly things like tampons! and throw pillows! and table cloths! Just think, if you walk into his house you might think a GIRL lived there. Gross!

Seriously though, seventy five days already. Time does fly when you are having fun.