No, no, I'm serious, despite the antihistamine-induced fog that I type through. First, you have to realize that Gretchen and I had carrot cake at our wedding -- because I asked for it, of course. That carrot cake was mercifully sulfite-free.
I spent much of the time that I was married to Carol with a stopped-up nose. It wasn't until shortly before she moved out that we finally realized that I was allergic to the mousse she was using on her hair. Of course, to the casual observer, this just looked like I was allergic to Carol.
But Carol moved out and my nose cleared up. (She actually quit using the mousse before moving out, but it probably took a while to de-mousse the house.) Then Carol and I got divorced. Then Gretchen moved in. And everything was fine.
Gretchen and I got married and, a day later, headed off to Conadian, the 1994 Worldcon in Winnipeg. Apparently, I ate something for dinner there that was extremely sulfite-laden, because I woke up one morning with hives. I asked Gretchen to go get some Benadryl somewhere. She got it, brought it back, and I slowly started getting better.
What you have to consider is that we didn't yet know that I was allergic to sulfites. We'd find that out later, when Gretchen fed me hominy. One kernel touched my lips and they swelled up. I grabbed the can and read, "Corn, water, salt, sulfur dioxide." Then I started swearing at the can. But forewarned is -- usually -- forearmed, and finding out that sulfites were the problem was a major win.
But we didn't know that yet.
And Gretchen spent some time wondering if I was simply allergic to marriage.
So you see, it's perfectly appropriate that I spend time puffy and blotchy as a result of my tenth anniversary party.
We will, however, try to dispense with this tradition for future anniversaries.