Exactly 14 years ago, I walked into a church with my about-to-be-husband and said “I do.” Of course, I was in a hurry, so I forgot to read the fine print, otherwise I would have realized that I was actually saying “I do… agree to move with you and your four kids to some random country where I have no friends and I don’t speak the language and oh, by the way, on our anniversary you’ll likely be too busy with the President’s security detail to come home in time for dinner.”
Oh, well. I would’ve married him anyway. Plus which, he gave me an awesome anniversary present. So who cares if I have to eat his share of the cake? I still maintain that I married quite well.