Sometimes imperfect is perfect, like when you wrap birthday presents for your husband but realize halfway through that you've run out of tape and have to finish with bright pink snowflake tape.
Or when you are unable to fit the wrapping paper around said gifts in any sort of presentable way so you wind up patching it up by adding in a side panel of uneven wrapping paper to create the most misshapen and ugly presents ever.
Or when you make a special cake for him based on his favorite dessert, the black-and-white cookie, and the frosting kind of melts off the cake.
And even when you take your husband out for dinner to a new Vietnamese restaurant and you order two different chicken dishes and then the waiter comes out and tells you that they've run out of chicken, the evening isn't ruined.
I try so hard to make sure everything is perfect but in the end, it only matters that I try, not that things actually go according to plan because, honestly, you can't control everything. Anthony feels the same way, which is a good thing since I can't imagine how he could stand to be with me if he truly expected perfection. Cheers to our imperfect celebration, which couldn't have been more prefect. xo