Better
My ivory frock, pristine as a cloud, hugs my minuscule waist. The intricate crystals shimmer as sunlight streams through the lattice squares of the park’s conservatory, a life-size, glass dollhouse, and I blush as my prince and I pledge our troth.
Little did I know, my “happily ever after” would stray far from my blissful fantasies. Strangely, it would be better.
While courting we barely ate, demurely smirking over dinner. Now, my hubby and I unabashedly juggle separate large pizzas, his sprinkled with green peppers and olives, mine piled with all the meat toppings it can bear without setting the oven ablaze. We chortle and shovel it in, licking our greasy fingers, barely catching the sauce with our napkins.
As the honeymoon receded, I wore less Barbie duds. Those silky, lace-edged teddies so alluring on those famished models scratch and ride up my backside – I’m talking wedgie city.
Now I sport my comfy T-shirt with the small hole in the spot I typically scratch, but my groom takes little notice as he flops around in his mismatched slippers and shuffles the mail, adjusting his duct-taped glasses.
While courting, I penciled my makeup with the precision of a calligrapher. Now, my groom declares my bare-naked face is still the fairest in all the land. When I do play dress up and dab blush and tint my pout with fuchsia lipstick, I don’t dare wear it to bed, waking up to pillowcases that look like someone smothered a clown.
No matter. Our experiences in the trenches of real life have bonded us beyond the superficial. We learned why the Maker of the real kingdom directs us to look beyond the outside, to the heart. Now I appreciate what matters more than the striking angles of his chiseled cheekbones and his perfect, regal nose is the person within, faults and all.
Though he tends to gab through every movie and teases that I snore like a lawn mower, this vegetarian cooks me a mean chicken biryani, makes me howl hysterically with his jokes and humbly prays with me when life seems overwhelming.
Now we embrace our imperfections and find nothing beats the simplicity of our quiet cuddle as we clench tight as kernels on the cob, sitting side by side, heads bobbing, riding life’s rollercoaster together.
Alas, when only three gray strands curl atop his head and my girls dangle like bowling balls, I’ll be even more euphoric than that day standing before the altar vowing to Jesus and the world: “I do” knowing it gets even…better.
| 
