Playful wedding vows for a partner at a courthouse ceremony

I promise to keep pretending I don't know where you hide the good snacks, even though we both know I found your stash three months ago.

I vow to always be the one who deals with the spider situation, as long as you keep being the one who talks to the landlord when things break.

I promise to love you even when you insist on watching that cooking show where everyone cries over soufflés, and I'll try really hard not to point out that nobody actually makes soufflés.

When we're old and grey, I promise to still laugh at your jokes—even the ones you've told me forty-seven times—because the way your eyes light up when you're about to deliver the punchline is my favorite thing in the world.

I vow to build this life with you one ordinary Tuesday at a time, celebrating the small stuff and facing the hard stuff, and remembering that we chose each other on purpose, in this very official room with surprisingly comfortable chairs.

I promise to keep restocking the good snacks in my hiding spot, because I've known for three months that you know, and honestly it's become part of our thing.

I vow to always be the one who calls the landlord, as long as you keep handling the spider crisis management, because we make a solid team even in our respective zones of avoidance.

I promise to love you even when you pretend not to care about the soufflé drama, because I've seen you lean forward during the judging and I know you're secretly invested.

When we're old and grey, I promise to keep telling you the same jokes, because making you laugh—really laugh, the kind where you snort a little—is the best thing I've ever been good at.

I vow to choose you on purpose every single day, through the boring parts and the beautiful parts, building a life that matters not because it's perfect but because it's ours, starting right here in this surprisingly official room with decent chairs.