Six months in, and still down to clown

We had our fancy dinner last night.  My mother gave Cas a gift card to Chamberlain's Fish Market for his birthday, and he saved it for a dinner to celebrate six months together.  Everything was perfect.  We decided that it would be so correct (and such an appropriate representation of who we are together) if we got a bit dressy, showed up a bit before our reservation and had some cocktails at the bar.  After that, we had a fantastic meal.  We returned to my house and dressed down a bit, then watched a stupid movie while drinking wine.  It was just about the perfect way to mark the occasion.

The stupid movie was Johnny Knoxville's Bad Grandpa.  Good lord, it was dumb.  It was also just the sort of thing that both of us agreed was appropriate to negate the formality we established earlier in the evening.

Cas often complements me.  He tells me he's fond of my looks, my mind, my sense of humor and my consistent status as someone who is "down to clown."  This is, of course a borrowed expression from my nephews.  I learned it over the summer, and I love the idea.  Would you like to do something?  Indeed!  I'm down to clown!  And we both are.  Fancy dinner?  Down to clown.  Silly movie?  Down to clown.  The myriad activities we've done over the past six months- we've both consistently been down to clown.

That's probably why he brought this particular bottle of wine to my house:

We had our fanciness.  We had some silliness,  We ate popcorn and drank circus wine.  And dangit, we looked pretty cute.  

So, that's us six months into this whole thing.  It's pretty badass.  We have not made any solemn vows or anything, but we have both predicted that we will remain consistently down to clown going forward.