Medical Matrimony, et al.

I have this crazy idea. Or maybe it's less of an idea and more of a theory, since "idea" implies a sense of originality---and let's face it, blogging hasn't been original since, what, 1997? I was 12 at that time, and let me be honest: in sixth grade I was too busy collecting key chains, sketching Disney characters and ignoring the fact that poor Dr. D (my husband) was in excruciating puppy love with me, to ever have the expendable brain waves to create the idea for online diary-writing. Let alone to think of calling it a "blahg." I mean really.
So my theory is this: I am going to want to remember this. What is "this," you may wonder? (I do realize that posing this hypothetical question assumes a readership greater than zero, which may be somewhat arrogant and misguided on my part, but I digress...)
When I say I want to remember this, I mean these early years of our marriage, and how we (Dr. D and I) got to this point in our lives, as individuals and as partners. I want to remember the big things and the little things, because sometimes the little things have an even bigger influence on the road ahead than all of the big things combined. For instance, one day when Dr. D was in grade school he was asked what he wanted to be when he grew up. That was a little thing, a moment in time. But because of his answer to that question, we're where we are now and Dr. D is halfway done with his medical degree. We've had the chance to build a home together and learn to rely on each other and trust in our love. We're also farther away from our family and friends than we ever expected to be, so it's my hope that this can be a way to share our lives with them despite the distance.
Woah... that got heavy for a second, didn't it? Let me lighten the mood a bit with the thing that I'd like to remember today:
Dr. D and I frequently have deep, existential conversations. On one such occasion, we posed to each other the question: if your spouse was a vegetable, what vegetable would they be? My loving husband eagerly blurted out his answer first: "You would be a GREEN BEAN!" I must not have been able to mask my disappointment and rising body-image sensitivity fast enough (I mean c'mon! Long, skinny, limp green beans?!), because he hastily added: "I mean... you're a well-proportioned green bean! With all the curves in the right beany places!"
He's a keeper.