Just kidding. We were actually the ripe old age of twenty-one. If one of my children ever tries to get married at twenty-one, I'll...well, over my dead body! But it worked out great for us. Tall, Dark and Handsome is 6'2". I'm 5'0" in shoes. We've heard all the jokes; don't go there.
When we were first married, he had two years of undergraduate school left. Then he went to chiropractic college and took the equivalent of five academic years in three and a half real years. While working two jobs. My hero.
So, he is a Doctor of Chiropractic. Technically, that means our mail should be addressed to "Dr. and Mrs. Tall Dark and Handsome". But nobody ever does, and I'm too nice to point out that little social gaffe.
Handsome is a fabulous husband. As mentioned in a previous post, he is content to do the bread-winning and allow me to stay home and do the bread-baking. I like this arrangement quite well and will never be accused of being a feminist. He also helps out around the house and irons his own shirts. I feel a little bit guilty about that. He scores big points for putting up with my type-A personality. Really, he should get an award.
Handsome is also The Best Dad Ever. He changed diapers, got up in the middle of the night, and gave most of the baths. He is the fun parent and actually plays with the kids. Once a week, he has a one-on-one date with one of them, on a rotating basis. He does stuff like this because it makes them laugh (well, lets face it, he thinks it's funny, too). Peace out.