Oops! Forgot Again.

Yesterday evening in the drizzling rain, my wife Chris and I went to the Texas Roadhouse to celebrate our 42nd anniversary. Our actual date is the 19th of August, but with school all day and my physical therapy in the afternoon the significance of the day was pushed out of our heads. Who says two heads are better than one? About ten o'clock that night, my son Hyrum and his wife Emery called and sang us the "Happy Anniversary" song. (For you old folks who at an early time in your lives watched the Flintstones, it is the song to the tune of the Lone Ranger theme which was actually the William Tell Overture.) We both laughed and said, "Oh yeah, it is our anniversary."

We have forgotten our anniversary more than once over the years. It is really a bad sign of something when you have talked about it the week before and still forget on the day.

Many years ago when our children were little, my wife and I had a part time job on weekday evenings working at Our Mom's Pies, a small pie factory owned by some friends of ours who lived down the street from us. My wife made and baked the pie shells while I mixed all the cream fillings and whipped cream and measured the fruit fillings. The work of the evening was dictated by the number of orders from restaurants in the area. One evening, after preparing a large order of pies, we were in the car driving home, too exhausted to talk and trying to reserve a little strength to take the babysitter home and put the kids to bed. I turned to Chris and asked, "Do you know what today is?" "It's the nineteenth." "Yep, the nineteenth of August, our anniversary." We both looked at each other and burst out laughing.

The dating couple ready for the BYU Fine Arts Ball 1971.