My Best Friend

Is Knute, of course, my husband of almost thirteen years and best friend/boyfriend/fiance/main squeeze for almost sixteen years.

It's incredibly cool to consider that in another year or so, we'll have spent half our lifetimes together.

What's so startling about that is this: I never really thought I would get married. Nope. And not because I have any issues with marriage (obviously, I'm a big almost-thirteen-year-fan of this institution), or I because I witnessed failed marriages in my own family (we marry for good; my parents are at forty-three years strong), but because of me.

I'm picky.

So to meet someone, The One, at the age of eighteen, after my first year at the University of Maryland where there were more parties than Paris Hilton could have hopped, was a surprise.

But a good one, one that I was fortunate enough to recognize the moment I met him.

This guy's a keeper, I thought, and damn if I wasn't dead-on right.

We've been through so much together - like any marriage - but after all these years, he's still my best friend above all. And while we're swimming through the years of parenting, together in our mission but often separate in our tasks, he's still the one person I want to hang out with when I have a free moment to spare.

He's just plain fun. And if you don't believe me, believe your eyes:

Knute, I thank God every day that He smacked me upside the head the night we met.

I love you!