Playful wedding vows for a spouse at a backyard ceremony

I promise to always let you have the last slice of pizza, even when I really, really want it. And when you inevitably offer to split it, I'll act surprised every single time.

I vow to keep pretending I don't know where you hide the good snacks, even though I found your stash behind the winter sweaters three months ago. Your secret is safe with me. Mostly.

I promise to laugh at your jokes, especially the ones you've told me seventeen times. That story about the raccoon in our trash can the first week we moved in together still gets me, and it always will.

I vow to be your partner in all things: in adventure and in Netflix binges, in dancing badly in our kitchen and in figuring out why the grill won't light. I promise to choose you, and choose us, and keep choosing this beautiful, ridiculous, perfect life we're building in this backyard and beyond.

I promise to keep offering you half of the last slice, even though we both know you already decided it's mine. It's our little dance, and I never want the music to stop.

I vow to continue my terrible job of hiding snacks around the house, because the day you stop politely pretending you haven't found them is the day I'll know something's wrong. Thank you for loving my quirks.

I promise to keep telling you about that raccoon—the one who knocked over our trash can and scared us both half to death our first week in this place. You built us a better bin the next day, and I knew then I'd found my person.

I vow to be your co-conspirator in everything: in home improvement disasters and midnight ice cream runs, in growing old and growing tomatoes in this very yard. I promise to choose you every day, in the big moments and the small ones, especially the small ones, because that's where our real life lives.