The secret to a successsful marriage.

At the reception they had a photo booth, it printed two sets of pictures, one as a keepsake and one for the bride and groom's scrapbook. Next to the pictures were a set of questions, name, where you traveled from, relationship to the bride/groom and one more. The last question was what is the secret to a successful marriage. I was selected to do the honors and my neurons fired a reasonable answer, "Don't have a clue, let us know when you figure it out." But this is P's cousin's wedding, and whatever I wrote would be there forever and would be seen by everyone and their mother, so I came up with a lame adult answer.

By the time I was done with the scrapbook entry SS was ready to hit the dance floor again and the entry was forgotten. The next day I mentioned it to P totally proud of my adult self. P looked at me incredulous and said "You DID NOT write that?" I told him no. He then asked , "What the hell did you write?" I proudly told him what I wrote, because usually my impish side wins. P was very disappointed, he looked at me with disgust and said "I can't believe you went for the lame adult answer, really," And that is why in one week I will be celebrating 46 years on this earth, have no common sense and my husband is not helping.

SS is fever free, but her throat is still hurting and she knows how to milk it. Every time she coughs she has to remind me "Mama, I sick." She has been missing P a lot today, asking every ten minutes where he was and when he was coming home. As P was putting his shoes on to return to work SS began to whine and said "Baba you not leaving?" SS has made her displeasure at his departures well known, but this time she not only articulated her feelings, but went straight for the heart strings. What sucks is that to pull off the Chicago trip P had to sell his soul to the lab devil and will be working weekends until our next trip.

Our first photo booth experience. Wish we had a copy of Aunt C's family, theirs was a hoot.

SS's first Ferris Wheel ride.