Tomorrow is my ninth Kitoversary. I met my significant other on October 2, 2006, and we've been together, more or less, ever since. We finally got married in February of this year, but no way was I resetting the anniversary counter at zero as if we were strangers. I would only do that to get us on The Newlywed Game, where I believe we would clean up because all you have to do in order to win is predict how your spouse will answer certain questions. Please. There are days when I think not knowing in advance every word that will come out of Kito's mouth would be a blessed relief.
Then again, sometimes he still surprises me. As part of the endless paperwork from the adoption agency—that's something else we've got going on this year—each of us had to write down what he likes about the other. I praised Kito's charisma, logical brain, and large capacity for empathy. He gave me high credits for, among other things, my wit. Which I found astonishing. It seems to me that I'm over here cracking jokes all the livelong day, and most of the time I can't get so much as a chuckle out of the man. You'd think someone with an allegedly large capacity for empathy would throw me an occasional guffaw just to put me out of my misery.
But evidently he's been appreciating the heck out of my wit all along. It would have been nice if he had also said something about my kindness to animals and old people, but you can't have everything.
Anyhow, the point is, we still like each other. And after nine years, that's saying something.
My review of Victory Gardens Theater's Sucker Punch is in this week's Chicago Reader.