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Bronze

On one of our first dates, Matt took me to Luby's for lunch. I remember sitting there giggling over a heap of fried okra (and other delectable cafeteria fare) and thinking, "This guy someone I want to know." Just a few hours earlier, he had picked me up, drove me to the mall and told me he wanted "to buy me something pretty." Indeed he did. No expense was spared, in fact. After, we ate Luann Platters and toasted our sweet tea in plastic cups. The bar was set pretty high. I couldn't have been happier.

And that's my Matthew in a nutshell. He treats me like a queen wherever we go - be it a fancy boutique or a greasy diner. The world is our stage and we're always having a ball. Ask anyone.

It's funny to me that two people who swore they would never EVER get married turned out to be really good at it. We fight, sure. (Boy! We've had some good ones!) We annoy each other almost daily. (Just put the dishes in the sink, ok?!) But we also laugh. At everything. All the time.

And we love.

Today is our wedding anniversary.

8 years.

96 months.
417 weeks.
70,080 hours.
4,204,800 minutes. (which is weird since no one can even count to a million. Ha!)

So, here's to us, Mr. Sully. Here's to the life we've created - quite literally in Isabel. Here's to 50 more years (at least) of laughter.

To you, Husband.

To me, your Wife.

To eternity.

Happy Anniversary, Baby.


A decade in Canada has changed Matt a bit.

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