Have I got a story for you

Have I got a story for you.  As of the third of February my husband and I will have been married for 25 years.  They were filled with passion.  I either wanted to kiss him all over or kill him and hide the body where it would never be found.
     I met him in July of 1978, while he was having his hair washed and cut by my aunt.  I was covered in chicken blood, as I had a bag of chicken to tear when I lifted it for the price.  I worked at a local grocery store.  I had stopped by to tell my mother that I was home, and going to clean up.  He lifted his head and said "Hi!"  I said "Hi!" and went home.  When my mother got home I told her that I had met the man I would end up marrying.  "What does he do?" she asked.  "I don't know" I replied.  "Where does he work?"..."I don't know."..."What is his name?"..."I don't know."..."Did he come through your line at work?"..."No."  By this time she was getting worried that I had lost my mind, so she asked one last question, "Where did you meet him, then?"  "It is the guy who was up at Aunt Dean's getting his head washed."  Then she knew that I had lost my mind.  That was the end of July, we were engaged on Thanksgiving, and married the first Sunday after deer season went out.
     One year our budget was tight at Valentine's Day and I have never really liked cut flowers, so my husband came in with a big bunch of silk flowers.  Boy was I surprised, and delighted.  I kept them in a vase on our book shelf and when we built our home I placed them on the book case.  My husband's best friend, who also works with him, asked me if Wayne had ever told me where the flowers came from.  They both started laughing, almost to the point of tears.  I looked completely lost, apparently and then my "loving" husband explained.
     A garbage truck had passed in front of his body shop, after it had picked up at the city cemetery.  The flowers had fallen off.  My husband picked them up off the road and was about to throw them into their dumpster, when the bright idea hit him to wash them and spray them with perfume and give them to me.  Years had passed before that little tidbit was given to me.  I kept the flowers for another ten years or so just to hit him with when I thought of it.  Now they just sit in a closet for old memories sake, if he didn't throw them out with our last cleaning spell.
     Again, we will have been married for 25 years, if we both make it to February 3,2004.  Times were not always easy, but then again times were not always so terrible that with a little stick-to-itness we could not make it.  Now we laugh about the cemetery flowers, the flying Hoover and many other stories that have come through the years.  Through it all I would not want anyone else on earth.  Thank you Wayne for 25 years of wonder, and love.