Happy First Anniversary, Mr Tabubil!

Mr Tabubil's greatest phobia in the entire world is glitter. He hates the stuff.  Hates the way it drifts, hates the way it silts, hates the way it clings to your clothing and hair and filters down the neck of your shirt to make your back all itchy, he hates the way it works itself into the fibers of the rug in your car and the carpet in your house and, in general and in brief, he hates the way one good glitter project can keep on giving for about ten years.
            Baby Pascal is heading toward the toddler-craft years, and Mr Tabubil made a show of peering into dark corners with a deeply hunted expression on his face, looking to see if Sophie had started stocking up.
            There is only one reasonable way to respond to a phobia like that. Sophie took me to a craft store and bought me a pack of glitter pens and sparkly stickers and the most glittery piece of cardboard, probably in the whole western hemisphere, and we made him an anniversary card.

It was pink and sparkly and said "Eww-ins Heart Nicey Bikkit" on it. There's no point doing things by halves.
            (He is Eeww-ins and I am Nicey Bikkit. Given enough years together, a couple can dredge up some really repulsive pet names. I had originally wanted to have this particular slogan engraved on the inside of my wedding ring, but Mr Tabubil talked me out of it.
            "Will you REALLY want to read that in fifty years?" He asked, wincing horribly.
            "Yes!"
But I bowed to the pressure. Does this make me a bad feminist?)

Here is our Anniversary card 24 hours after our wedding anniversary.

 Mr Tabubil and the Engineer built a bonfire in the backyard:
            "So that this expression of our love can rise up with the smoke and live forever among the stars." Mr Tabubil said innocently. "What do you THINK I'm doing?"
            He put on a wounded expression and roasted marshmallows over the ashes.