My kind of weird

 In the immortal words of Dr. Seuss,

We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.

Those words certainly rang true today, on our 8th anniversary. As I prepared to take Lily out on her morning walk, I spotted a suspicious crumple on our patio. I soon discovered she'd helped herself to a bit of dirty laundry and munched her way straight through, not for the first time. We were due for a new laundry basket, preferably of the dog-proof variety.

Thirty minutes later, voilà, the contents of our Amazon shopping cart, ready for check-out.

A reasonably dog-proof laundry basket, complete with separate hampers for lights, darks, and delicates!

But let's be honest, those new cloth hampers are just asking to be labeled. Now, if I were an instagram arts-and-crafts type, there'd be lovely embroidered text, maybe color-coded or in an impossibly cute font. But as much as I can dream, that's not me. I know I've found my person when the following patches to label our delicates, lights, and darks get both a haha and a solid green light.

Clockwise from left, our new labels for the delicates, lights, and darks laundry.

If I had to sum up the daily joys of marriage in a snapshot, this might just be it: finding that person who equally appreciates the dark humor and absurdity, and is completely on board for this interpretation of adulting. We don't need anyone's permission to live out loud exactly as we are, and hopefully enjoy a laugh together along the way.

Here's to the first 8 years and many more.