Noah and I just celebrated our 20-year wedding anniversary. Yes, I was 13 when I got married.

As I announced to several (OK, about 1,000) people a significant anniversary was coming up, it dawned on me what a Herculean effort it is to reach such a milestone in this day and age. Several newly married friends lined up with notepads to interview me on the secret of marital longevity. I fully expected  a call from the New York Times. 

I could have made up any number of quotable sound bites, like the importance of sacrifice, putting the other’s needs ahead of your own (well OK, I definitely do that) and making dinner weekly wrapped in Saran Wrap. The wife, not the dinner, that is.

But the truth for us is somehow we’ve managed to keep a slight sense of humor about us through all the ups and downs 20 years can deliver. Marriage is a daily challenge under the most fortunate of circumstances. Part of our saving grace has been that Noah still likes to make jokes about stuff–and I still manage to laugh sincerely at them. At least when I’m not really mad at him.

As luck would have it, Noah has been doing some work for a company in the Napa Valley for the last few months, so I grabbed a flight and met him out there to spend some QT together on our big day (another tip for marital longevity: get away occasionally from the kids, or simply don’t have them to begin with). But first, a little shopping was in order.

I thought it might be a good time to refresh the old sleepwear I’d been sporting. Mind you, I don’t snooze in ratty t-shirts and gym shorts (otherwise do you think I’d be celebrating a 20-year anniversary? Seriously.) But my jammies and nightgowns were looking a bit worn around the edges and not at all worthy of a trip to Solage spa resort in Calistoga.

Naturally, I headed to the chic shop beloved by women everywhere–Target. Seeing as I also needed OJ, bread and a few other necessities for my three darling children while I was away, I thought I’d be efficient and see what they had in the lingerie department. Then something special caught my eye.

First of all, I’m a fan of just about everything ever made in charcoal grey. It serves as basic black in my wardrobe. If you gave me charcoal grey scrubs, I’d put a belt and scarf with them and call it good. What I found at Target was this hot little number.

IMG_3303I was seriously considering it. Not for it’s sexy quotient, but more for the “I’m so cool I wear charcoal to bed like a Calvin Klein model” factor. But then, sigh. There was a sign above them that said this.

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Perfect. Is this what 20 years have done to me? My sense of sexy is this off? Maybe at times, but my sense of humor isn’t. After hanging up the nursing bra, I found the perfect pair of hot skivvies.

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Trust me, they were a big hit.