This past Sunday was my and Sir Monkeypants’ 12 year wedding anniversary. Twelve years. Sounds like we are old marrieds, doesn’t it? We actually dated for six years before getting married, so that makes 18 years in total that we’ve been together. We’ve been together longer than the youngest constestant is old on American Idol, by God, and that is freaky.

Know what else is freaky? I still really love that guy.

I love him for all the reasons that I married him, that he is hilarious and clever and has beautiful chocolate brown eyes. These days I also love him for being such a great dad to these three kids I adore, for having endless appetite for stories about the kids that I love to tell, and for sharing his lovely chocolate brown eyes with all three of them.

So, happy anniversary, darling.

Just the other day I was thinking about being newly engaged. I had to go to the bank to get a big wad of cash for an unnamed house project that is doing a part cash-only thing, hush hush, and I felt really, really nervous about walking around with a few thousand dollars in my diaper bag and three little kids in tow. I was pretty sure I was going to be mugged in the parking lot or carjacked on the way home. It reminded me of being freshly betrothed, when I was terrified of leaving the house with my engagement ring on. It was by far the most expensive thing either of us had ever bought — still is, except for cars and houses — and I was sure that its dazzling sparkle was just a flashing neon sign to every thug on the subway, saying, “Rob me! Rob me!” I used to turn the ring around so the shiny bits were facing my palm, then make a fist to hide the ring, and even then I’d be a shaking bundle of nerves for the whole time I was away from home or office.

Nevermind that thousands, nay millions, of ladies leave the house with engagement rings every day, and survive to tell the tale. Mine was lovely, and a token of true love. It was sure to be worth millions on the black market.

I still have it, though. Totally outsmarted those thieves.

But making into the father of my children is what really makes me feel smart.