Of Columns and Celtic Scarves

On Tuesday night, the hubby and I celebrated our second anniversary as newlyweds. Two years and a billion burnt dinners later, we're as happy as two meadowlarks. Which I guess are happy birds. Because who wouldn't be happy if you could fly and hang out in a meadow and sing all day?

Anyway, we had a great anniversary. Great because it was a night filled with classic moments for us. Classic, "you have to laugh, otherwise you'd cry" kind of moments. Story of our life. (See furnace, bats, Opie, laundry, etc.)

The evening started with a piping hot platter of Stauffer's Lasagna. Don't judge me. The hubby loves a good lasagna, and my aching back was in no mood to try harvesting my own noodles and smooshing up my own cheese and marinara sauce. If that's even what's in lasagna. So I shelled out 5 bucks at the store and popped it in the oven. An hour and a half later, dinner was ready, and we ate. And it was good. Classic. Dinner in a box. I can't say the boxed dinner hasn't frequented our table more than a few times in the past two years. So you could say I was consistent.

Next on the docket (what's a docket?) was presents. Even though we said we wouldn't do presents. We did. I gave the hubs a Snapfish photo book of a ton of pictures since we got married back in 2007. Good grief. Let's just say we've sported a few different hair cuts, amounts of facial hair, and pounds in the past 2 years. We like variety. The hubs liked the book, and I was happy to say I finally did something with the pictures that have lived in solitude on my computer for too long. Post-photo album came a card from the hubs. A funny card. With two old people on the front. And inside was an envelop bearing tickets to see a Christmas concert featuring the symphony and the Irish singing group, "Cherish the Ladies." I'm not going to lie and say I immediately thought it sounded fun. Partially because I am not a symphony fan, and partially because before I opened the tickets, the hubby felt the need to reassure me, "It'll be fun. It really will. I promise. Just....I promise." The hubs said he thought we should do something sophisticated. Something a little more high-class than our usual dinner on the couch and a good movie. I was impressed. So, after shaking off my initial hesitation, I got all excited, ran upstairs to grab the Scottish scarf my grandmother gave me 10 years ago, and we were out the door.



After a smooch under the mistletoe, of course.

(This is my "you had better not make fun of my thematic scarf or the fact that this coat doesn't button around my belly" face. Just in case you wondered what that face looks like.)


We headed into the city, and the lights were just beautiful. The hubs snagged a great parking spot, and we made our way through the streets to the performance hall. This is the only pic I could get of the hubs during the transition from home to the concert. When there's a deadline that involves lots of people dressed up for something and the need to be on time, things get a little "tense". My constant snaps of the camera were not appreciated, hence, the pic of my feet and his body in a blurr. Places to be, people. Places to be.



We waltzed right into the hall and then I saw a flight of 1,996,354 stairs. I looked at the elevator, which boasted a line of 45,609,043 people. I opted to take the stairs. Forgetting about my heels. And the 15 pounds I've put on during my pregnancy. It was a rough go. But we made it.

The hubby led the way to our seats, and when we saw where they were, we started laughing. Because if you didn't laugh, you would cry. Especially if you were a pregnant lady who didn't love symphonies, but was really looking forward to snuggling up to your hubby of two years throughout the concert.

Because there was a column.

Right between our two seats.

And the place was full.

And there was a column.

Right between our two seats.

Not even my Scottish scarf could save us. And it was authentic. "Made in Scotland".



We were stuck sitting apart on our anniversary at a Celtic Christmas concert. It wouldn't have been so bad if the lady next to me wasn't wearing a fur coat that would put even Cruella DeVille to shame. It took up all of her seat and half of mine. And she was wearing Shamrock earrings that were 3 inches in diameter. And that scared me a little.

We held hands and toughed it out during the first half of the concert.



Then came intermission. We swiped up our coats, hit the bathroom, then launched ourselves up another flight of stairs (oye vey...if that means "good grief I am so pregnant and so not suppose to be climbing a bajillion stairs at one time"), desperate to find a couple of seats next to one another without a furcoat or column to hinder our Celtic Christmas experience.

When we reached the tip top of the performance hall, we found a sea of open seats. We plopped down right in the middle of a row by ourselves and drank in the freedom that comes with the absence of columns. Beautiful.



And we held hands.

And waited for those people to sit down.

And enjoyed some Celtic Christmas music.

And it was good.



Thanks for a fun night, GB! Happy Anniversary!