From my first days of knowing my husband, I also knew about his love for nonsensical phrases. He loves to incessantly repeat odd, meaningless things that he hears on films or commercials or on the side of the road. I’ve never watched Back to the Future or The Goonies from start to finish, but I can quote the crap out of both of them.
So as we were binge-watching Shameless last week, and a stoned college student on a bad trip uttered the words, “No one at the Kmart knows about my bologna.”, I immediately knew this would be a new token phrase. Not only because Robby was nearly crying he was laughing so hard, but because it sounded just like him. I felt honored to be privy to a strange catchphrase in the making.
Robby and I are soon to celebrate seven years of marriage and an anniversary trip is in the works. Both of these things make me giddy.
In these seven years we’ve shared many things. Anger, but more joy. Fights, but more laughter. Eye rolls, but more weird dances around the house. Baby poop, but more group family cuddles. Okay, let’s be real, probably more baby poop. Babies poop a lot.
There’s a big learning curve when it comes to marriage, and I love that we’ve always found ways to learn and curve together. I was especially young when we said “I do”, and Robby has been unwaveringly patient and kind every step and misstep of the way. There are things I couldn’t have known at twenty that I know about myself now. That, as much as I value us, I also need space to breathe, to travel and to live outside of my marriage. That, as much as I cherish my family, I also value my independence and higher education and exploring the world. Not only that, I sincerely believe that having this time to myself makes me both a better wife and mother overall. This isn’t something that everyone understands, and that’s okay. Because he does. Robby has always wholeheartedly encouraged me to chase my dreams and to figure out what makes me feel happy and fulfilled. He is my person, and to have spent the past seven years crafting inside jokes and our own bizarre lingo makes me feel like I’m a part of the best private club. Ours.
I married young, but I married right.
His sweet laughter about secret bologna only reiterates that knowledge.