Funny wedding vows for a husband at a courthouse ceremony

I promise to love you even when you're wrong, which, according to my calculations, is approximately 40% of the time. I've kept a spreadsheet, but I'll delete it right after this ceremony. Probably.

I vow to always laugh at your jokes, even the ones you've told me seventeen times. Especially the story about the rental car in Phoenix. I will nod at the punchline like it's the first time I've heard it, because your face when you tell it makes everything worth it.

I promise to split the driving on road trips, to never say 'I told you so' more than twice per incident, and to accept that your way of loading the dishwasher is technically functional, even if it defies the laws of physics and common sense.

I vow to be your partner in all things: your co-pilot in terrible decisions, your accomplice in midnight snack raids, and your designated spider-remover. I will stand by you through good times and bad, through sickness and health, and through every home improvement project we should have just hired someone for.

Today, in this courthouse with fluorescent lighting and surprisingly comfortable chairs, I choose you. Not because it's easy, but because loving you is the best decision I've ever made, and I've made some real doozies. You're stuck with me now. It's legally binding.

I promise to love you even when I'm wrong, which, according to your calculations, is approximately 40% of the time. I know about the spreadsheet. I've seen it. I'm choosing to marry you anyway, which should tell you everything about my judgment and my devotion.

I vow to keep telling you my jokes, especially the one about the rental car in Phoenix, because the way you smile and pretend it's the first time you've heard it is exactly why I fell in love with you. You're a terrible liar, but you're a wonderful partner.

I promise to let you drive sometimes, to graciously accept your constructive criticism at least once per incident, and to acknowledge that your dishwasher-loading method is 'fine,' even though we both know mine creates 23% more space and optimal water flow.

I vow to be your partner in all things: your navigator on adventures we probably shouldn't take, your co-conspirator in 2 AM kitchen raids, and your official jar-opener. I will stand by you through promotions and layoffs, through health scares and victories, and through every IKEA assembly that tests our marriage before it's even an hour old.

Today, in this courthouse that smells faintly of lemon cleaner and civic duty, I choose you back. You're my favorite person to be wrong with, to laugh with, and to build this beautifully imperfect life with. Let's make it official before you change your mind.