I sort of missed the Sixties. I was born at the tail end of the Fifties, so the whole Sixties experience for me was little more than watching a bunch of long-haired freaks who were incapable of stringing coherent thoughts together protest things by sitting down a lot. The more interesting ones included a lot of spit in their invective, which only served to make them look that much goofier.
I say this by way of explaining that I have no pharmaceutical reason for missing the last decade of my life.
I'm quite sure I lived it; my email files go back at least five or more years as partial proof. The most potent medication I've ever taken that wasn't prescribed for me is Aleve. I stopped dropping Afrin in the Eighties because I was getting perpetual nose-bleeds, so I know that can't be it. I kicked my caffeine addiction two and a half years ago. Further proof that I was alive and well during the past ten years.
So how is it that Mrs. Woody and I, who just got married yesterday, spent this past weekend celebrating 10 years of wedded bliss?
We have kids, for instance. When did they get here? I mean, they were just little pinkish blobs of drool yesterday, and suddenly today they both have grown at least as high as my armpits. So I guess that means that Mrs. Woody and I must have gotten married at least two days ago.
No. Wait... if I remember my high school biology correctly, kids take at least 10 months to gestate, and I have two of them, and one of them is clearly older than the other one, so that's 10 times 2, plus a little time off in between, so that would be, lessee, carry the 4 and divide by 2, at least two years ago that Mrs. Woody and I got married.
But that can't be right, either. Dagnabit, I have old anniversary cards that say schlocky things like "Fifth Anniversary" and "has it really been that long?" So apparently we've been married more than five years. So if we've been married five years, I guess it's not such a stretch to say we've been married for ten.
But if that's true, where did it all go? I'm looking at our wedding photo and I'm noticing a few differences. I'm rounder than I was in the picture, and I know that didn't get here overnight. Also, there's a lot more gray on my temples, and the beard I was sporting on our wedding day has disappeared. My skin just gets too sensitive anymore to support the facial hair, and that, too, can't be something that developed just yesterday.
The funny part, of course, is that Mrs. Woody looks just as pretty today as she does in the picture, so apparently we haven't been married for ten years. Either that, or Heavenly Father is having one of his little jokes, and keeping Mrs. Woody looking young and beautiful and turning me into the 2,000 Year Old Man.
Don't get me wrong. I thoroughly enjoyed the weekend we spent together. Having only one weekend a year that we can spend together, on our own, is a special treat for us until the girls grow up and move out and GET MARRIED AND HAVE KIDS OF THEIR OWN!! Buwahahahahaha!!!
What I mean is, Mrs. Woody and I find these anniversary weekends (so, okay, I guess we've had a few of them at least) to be wonderful retreats. We've even discovered, to our pleasant surprise, that it doesn't even matter where we go or what we do. Just being together and having no pressures on our time is refreshing and relaxing. It allows us to look back with fondness on our past, while enjoying the anticipation of a lifetime (and beyond!) together.
In the meantime, I've lost a decade. I know it's around here, somewhere. Maybe after we get the house settled down after the Move From Hades™, we'll find it. Mrs. Woody claims to have photographs of us over the past ten years, and is threatening to put them in tastefully done scrapbooks.
This is my life. I just can't remember where I put it.