Another year of you saying "I know a shortcut." I love you more than I love arriving on time, which is saying a lot.

Thank you for another year of fixing things around the house with YouTube and pure confidence. My hero.

To the man who still thinks the dishwasher is a mystery appliance: you're cute, and I'm keeping you.

I married you for your heart, your humor and your ability to reach the top shelf. All three are still working great.

Another year of you asking "What's for dinner?" five minutes after lunch. I wouldn't want anyone else asking.

Happy anniversary to my husband, who has never once lost an argument with the GPS, according to him.

You still laugh at your own jokes before you finish telling them. I still laugh too. That's love.

Thanks for putting up with my 37 throw pillows for another year. I promise there are only 38 now.

Happy anniversary to the man who can sleep through a thunderstorm but wakes up instantly when I open a bag of chips.

Happy anniversary to the woman who can find anything in this house, except the sunglasses currently on her head.

Another year of you being right. I've stopped keeping score. Mostly because I was losing.

Thank you for another year of letting me think I'm in charge of the TV remote.

You're the reason I smile every day, and also the reason the thermostat is set to 76. Both worth it.

You've watched me try to fold a fitted sheet for years and you still haven't left. That's commitment.

Every year I love you more, and every year you steal a little more of the blanket. I've accepted my fate.

Thanks for laughing at my dad jokes even before we had kids. That was a true act of faith.

Another year of you saying "I'm not hungry" and then eating half my fries. Best partnership I've ever had.

You make every day better, and every grocery trip about forty dollars more expensive. I wouldn't change a thing.

Happy anniversary to the only couple I know who can turn picking a restaurant into a three-day negotiation.

Congratulations on another year of deciding what to watch, giving up and rewatching the same sitcom for the ninth time.

You two are proof that opposites attract: one of you is always cold and the other is always hot, and somehow you share a bed.

Another year together and the dog is still clearly in charge of your household. Happy anniversary to all three of you.

Happy anniversary! May your love be as strong as your Wi-Fi password is complicated.

Your marriage has outlasted three couches, two cars and one very questionable haircut. Truly inspiring.

Mom and Dad, after all these years you still can't agree on how to load the dishwasher. Clearly love conquers everything except cutlery placement.

My favorite couple can have an entire argument using only eyebrows, and make up with a shrug. Impressive.

Another year of marriage and neither of you has learned to close a kitchen cabinet. A match made in heaven.

Celebrating you two today, and your impressive ability to tell the same vacation story with completely different details.

You two have been together so long you've started to look alike. It's cute. It's a little eerie. Mostly cute.

Still the only person I'd share my fries with. Happy anniversary.

Years of sharing one bathroom mirror. Respect.

Happy anniversary to my favorite blanket thief.

Still married. Still weird. Still adorable.

Thanks for another year of pretending to like my cooking.

Cheers to another year of "Where did you put the keys?"

Still smarter than me. Happy anniversary, genius.

Love is real, and so is the fight over the thermostat. Happy anniversary!

You snore like a leaf blower, and I'd still choose to fall asleep next to you every night for the rest of my life.

I love you more than pizza. Don't ask me to repeat that in front of pizza. Happy anniversary.

You two argue about the dumbest things and agree on everything that matters. That's the secret, isn't it?

Of all the things I've lost in this house, I'm so glad I never lost you. You're also the only thing I can always find.

You've seen me sick, grumpy and attempting to dance. You stayed anyway. That's true love.

From the burned first dinner to the flooded basement, you've laughed your way through it together. Never stop.

I'd still marry you all over again, but this time I'd skip the part where we assembled furniture together on our honeymoon.

You've shared the bills, you've shared the bed, you've shared the snacks you said you'd shred. You fight about the thermostat, but love each other more than that.

Happy anniversary to the woman who has put up with my snoring, my terrible singing in the car, my firm belief that every road trip needs one more gas station stop, and my habit of starting home projects that take three times longer than planned. You've done all of it with patience and only occasional eye-rolling. You make our home loud, warm and full of laughter. I'm the luckiest guy alive, and I'd sign up for every single one of these years again. Even the year of the kitchen remodel.