lickin' for love

Some of you know this story, but today seems like a good day to tell it again.

A long time ago in a land far away (Spring 2003, NYC)

I gave my love a giant gobstopper.

"When I get to the center of this giant gobstopper," he said,

"I will ask you to marry me."

Oh my! I thought. Please start licking!

At first he licked a little each night. It was so exciting to see the colors change with each layer.

However, I began to realize it would take many nights of intensive licking to get to the center of that giant gobstopper.

Should I secretly boil it down in a pot of water?

Surely he would notice.

I would just have to wait. And wait. And wait.

As dust started to collect upon its candy shell I gave up hope.

Our love was true...

It would happen when it was supposed to happen.

Even though I saw him pick it up from time to time and lick, straight through the dust,

I decided to forget about it.

Years passed.

One day we went for a long hike up a mountainside to a beautiful lake. We had a picnic lunch and gazed upon the wild vista.

My love then placed something in my hand.

What was this faded, broken thing?

It was the giant gobstopper, except it was giant no more.

He had licked all the way down to the final layer and the gummy center.

We were married two months later on the happiest, rainiest Saturday I have ever seen.

That was four years ago today.

Happy Anniversary, my love!

It was only appropriate we used giant gobstoppers as a wedding favor...

As for that original one, licked all the way down to the center, it sits in a frame forever protected from dust and always a reminder of how many licks were made for love.