Friday, Aug. 4, 2006 | Aug. 4 is a big day around the Moye house. It’s our fifth wedding anniversary.

On Aug. 4, 2001, my wife and I tied the knot and launched ourselves on that wild ride called marriage. A ride that has led to two kids, two mortgages, two cats, and too many laughs to count.

Considering how annoying I can be, I think I got the better end of the deal, a point made clear to me when we attended my wife’s 20th High School Reunion this past weekend. Women kept coming up to her and saying, “You look sooo good. Ohmigod, you look better than anyone here.”

Then they’d look at me and say, “You know how lucky you are, don’t you?”

“Uh, yes I do,” I’d say with pride because my wife is indeed a hot little muffin.

I knew that the first time I saw my wife. It was at a hair salon in Hillcrest and I saw her at the counter while I was trying to read People magazine and suddenly – and I’m not making this up -I saw a bunch of clouds above her head clear away.

I tried to introduce myself by telling her she had lovely teeth and asking her if she had ever done a chewing gum commercial.

Her response: “I knew you from high school.”

I figured that shut the door on any future because I don’t look back on how I was in high school as a good thing.

Still, a few days later, I checked with my hairdresser who hinted she might be interested in going out with me.

That was in 1998 and we were pretty much together after our first date. She was the first woman I could really see having my kids. Plus, she was nice enough to allow me to be the drama king in the relationship.

I have a theory about love. In every relationship, someone needs to be the rock, while the other is the roll. By that, I mean, someone has to be grounded while the other one flits around like a chicken with its head cut off, keeping things exciting.

I’m lucky to have found my rock although I do make her roll her eyes, especially with some of the columns I write.

On the other hand, when I write one that legitimately tickles her funny bone, she sends it out to as many people as she knows. Even some she doesn’t. That makes me proud because, as she points out, she is my target audience.

I look back on my wedding day with fondness. We had fun. My wife looked great. My pickiest friend praised the wine choice and another friend started to toast me, got flustered, and toasted his own wife instead.

Lots of fun.

I changed my wife by making her into an experienced world traveler who has been to Spain, Hong Kong and Italy and she changed me by getting me locked into stability and parenthood.

I don’t think either of us would trade anything.

It’s not always easy. If my weight gets above 178, I snore loudly and wake her up all night.

On the other hand, she sometimes watches 13 seconds of my precious “Law & Order” reruns and tells me the ending because, she insists, “they’re all the same.”

Now that we have kids, our life has changed slightly. We’re no longer the “fun, childless couple who wants kids.” Now, we’re the “slightly panicky young parents whose 3-year-old daughter is about to tear up your prized rose bushes.”

It’s a change but we’re adapting. I no longer look at my wife with the look of innocent puppy love I had in the beginning. Now, it’s with the resigned understanding that this person knows my flaws and weaknesses better than I do – and still loves me anyway.

What is fun for us is seeing how each of our two kids has adapted parts of our personality. Alex, while a very girly girl, shares some of my wild imagination. Owen has my wife’s more mellow personality but with my evil grin.

All in all, it’s a good combination.

I don’t know what I will buy for my wife for our anniversary. It’s not that she doesn’t like flowers or cards or jewelry. But I am so overwhelmed by what she has done for me that no matter what I give her I won’t feel like it’s enough.

My wife, I’m sure, understands my feelings but she’d be the first one to say, “That’s no excuse.”

Happy anniversary.

David Moye is a La Mesa-based writer who first brought up the topic of marriage to his wife by saying, “You’d make a great first wife.” You can offer tips on how he can avoid needing a second one by e-mailing him at Or send a letter to the editor.

Leave a comment

We expect all commenters to be constructive and civil. We reserve the right to delete comments without explanation. You are welcome to flag comments to us. You are welcome to submit an opinion piece for our editors to review.

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.