It’s been eight months and we are still happily married. Not that we expect to be otherwise in future, of course.
Thank you, Mr Thick, for being my biggest supporter and cushion when I am in need of a hug.
Thank you for doing the laundry, even though I complain that you wash our clothes far too often for my liking (once every five days).
Thank you for cooking and then doing the washing up because you know I am tired and not feeling great.
Thank you for devouring, like a hungry sumo wrestler, the food that I cook even though it is far from tasty.
Thank you for coming to my aid when an annoying bug flies into the house even though you are on the potty and doing your business (you help after flushing and washing your hands with soap, obviously).
Thank you for taping down those 3am football matches for me because you know I would rather be sleeping than watching the telly.
I miss our wedding day quite a bit but I like what happens after the wedding more.
Happy eight months!