Funny wedding vows for a husband at a garden ceremony

I promise to love you even when you insist on talking to the plants like they're our actual children. I will nod supportively when you explain photosynthesis to a fern, and I will only occasionally remind you that the tomatoes still can't hear you.

I vow to always be the one who kills the spiders in the garden shed, even though we both know I'm more afraid of them than you are. In return, I ask only that you pretend not to notice my high-pitched yelping.

I promise to support your wildly optimistic plant purchases every spring, and to help you dig holes for things we both know won't survive July. When the garden center employee says 'low maintenance,' I will hold your hand and let you believe it this time.

I vow to love you through every season—even when you drag me outside in February to 'just check on the bulbs' and I lose feeling in three toes. Your enthusiasm for mulch is baffling and beautiful, and I'm here for all of it.

I promise to build you raised beds, fix the sprinkler system I definitely broke, and never say 'I told you so' about the aggressive mint situation. You are my favorite weed, and I choose you forever.

I promise to love you even when you 'fix' the sprinkler system and turn our garden into a surprise water park. I will calmly retrieve the hose from the tree where it somehow ended up, and I will laugh about it by dinnertime. Probably.

I vow to forgive you for the Great Mint Incident, even though you released an unstoppable force upon our garden that will outlive us both. When I find mint in the mailbox next spring, I will remember that your heart was in the right place, even if your gardening judgment wasn't.

I promise to stop dragging you outside to admire things you can't see yet. I know 'the bulbs are doing something underground' is not compelling content. But when they bloom, I will absolutely make you come look, and you will pretend it's the first time I've shown you.

I vow to appreciate that you face your fears for me, even if those fears are quarter-inch spiders. Your battle cries echo through the shed, and they are the soundtrack of our love. Ridiculous, but ours.

I promise to choose you in every season, even when you track mud through the house and pretend you don't know how it got there. You are my favorite gardening disaster, and I will love you until the mint finally takes over everything.