Seven Year Itch? No thanks.
As much as I love Marilyn's movies, I'm not finding myself suffering from the seven year itch. Last week husband and I had our seventh anniversary of 'going out' (as my cousin put it).
We had been out wine tasting at Fed Square in celebration of Miss C from work submitting her PhD thesis. Husband, Miss M (from work) and I then traipsed out to dinner in China Town (I say traipse and Miss M and I were rather squiffy from drinking, no, not drinking, I mean tasting, lots of wine).
On our way to dinner husband and I both realised that it was our anniversary. Seven years! Phew! And husband got to celebrate it by watching me and my mates get pissed (he had volunteered to drive).
The only itch I'm feeling at the moment is from a mozzie bite.
We had been out wine tasting at Fed Square in celebration of Miss C from work submitting her PhD thesis. Husband, Miss M (from work) and I then traipsed out to dinner in China Town (I say traipse and Miss M and I were rather squiffy from drinking, no, not drinking, I mean tasting, lots of wine).
On our way to dinner husband and I both realised that it was our anniversary. Seven years! Phew! And husband got to celebrate it by watching me and my mates get pissed (he had volunteered to drive).
The only itch I'm feeling at the moment is from a mozzie bite.
posted by Miff at
3:15 pm
1 Comments:
Yay for both of you lovelies.
Just think, 7 years ago you were 19 and your daddy was going to buy you a pony.
How things change.
By
Sherd, at 9:30 pm
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