With this rock, I thee wed...

"Aren't you forgetting something?" I reminded husband-head as he walked out the door on his way to work early one morning.
Husband-head, who was still not yet wide awake, turned around and looked puzzled.
"Oh yeah," he said as he ambled back to where I was standing in the doorway.
He leaned over and gave me the kind of peck on the cheek that one usually reserves for one's grandmother.
"No, that's not it," I said, pointing to my wedding ring. "It's Friday, remember?"
Shortly after we were married, husband-head quickly established a rule that he only has to wear his wedding ring on Fridays. Why Fridays? Who knows. I, on the other hand, am required to wear mine all the time.
I turned around to go get his ring from where he keeps it - in a dish on his nightstand under a little round rock.
When I came back, husband-head was nowhere in sight.
The dogs, however, gave him away and I found him hiding behind a door.
"Noooo," he said, when I discovered him and jammed the ring onto his finger. "I don't like jewelry! It chokes my finger! It interferes with my work!"
He sits at a computer all day...
I should've known he wouldn't have been into the wedding ring thing from the very beginning when we were buying our rings and he wanted "Go Packers!" engraved on his.
Actually, I don't think he was into the whole marriage bit, either.
"It's just a piece of paper," he had said, patting my head when I suggested he make an honest woman out of me. "It doesn't change anything."
My mother had a different attitude when I told her husband-head and I were living together.
"Why buy the cow when the milk's for free?" she had quipped, disapprovingly.
But now, years later, husband-head has decided that marriage isn't such a bum deal after all. Why not? You get your meals cooked, your laundry done, your house cleaned...
"I get to be the husband in the next life," I announced as I stood folding and putting away a huge pile of clothes. "Do you realize I've been picking up after you for more than 10 YEARS?"
Husband-head feigned a look of shock at the thought that we'd been joined in holy matrimony for over a decade.
"MURDERERS don't get that long!" he responded with his standard reply. "I should be eligible for parole by now!"
"Stop it," I reproached. "Marriage is an institution, you know."
"Yes," he agreed. "And all we are missing are the bars on the windows."
I remember telling husband-head that for our 10-year anniversary, I wanted a nice "rock" to accompany my wedding band.
"Sure, I can do that!" he said to my surprise.
He was out working in the garden one weekend when he brought in his gift.
"Here's your rock!" he said, as he handed me a perfectly round, small stone he'd found outside in the garden.
It wasn't exactly the rock I was hoping for...
As a joke, I also found a perfectly rounded stone and gave it to him in return.
"Cool!" husband-head said enthusiastically, as he carefully examined it, looking way more excited about it than he ever had in the jewelry store.
A few days later, I noticed the rock sitting in the dish next to his bedside, on top of his wedding ring.
"What's that doing in here?" I asked.
"You gave it to me," he said simply. "I like my rock."
"You like it better than your wedding ring, don't you?" I accused, realizing we could've saved a lot of money exchanging rocks instead of rings.
With this rock, I thee wed...