Tomorrow, Kris and I will have been married five years.
The traditional gift for the fifth year is wood. While over at Keith and Katie's, we pondered this when I asked what I could purchase or make for for Kris for our anniversary.
Wood.
Wood.
Wood.
Dur.
A bat.
A baseball bat.
And Kris could buy me a tree! Whee!
Kris left his bats at home in Viriginia when he left for college. I've asked him several times to bring them back to California with him when he returns from visits back east, but either he forgets, or I forget, and the bats remain 3500 miles away.
So, while at her house, Katie and I looked for some bats, finding a bat signed by Willie Mays for $350. I thought about it, and realized that I'd rather have a bat we can use than a bat that sits in a box mounted to the wall.
When I dashed home and told Kris what I was getting him for our anniversary, and what he was getting for me, he laughed. He had already decided to get me a tree, but was waiting for when we could both go look for one together. I had to laugh. It's a good idea.
Tonight, however, we went to buy a bat. You can't buy a bat without purchasing balls. And you can't have a ball and a bat without any way to catch the balls you hit with the bat.
So, somehow I ended up with a new baseball glove. When I asked Kris how my gift to him became an odd gift to me, he replied, "The gift isn't so much the bat, as that you're going to play baseball with me. That's the TRUE gift."
Great. Only took him 11 years to break me down.
Baseball.
Indeed.
Happy anniversary, love.
