I have never enjoyed big weddings

 I had attended a few weddings of varioius relatives, but I never could understand what all the falderah was about.  It seemed like a waste of money to me.

So when Cliff and I decided to get married, it was just us, plus Cliff's brother's wife and his mother for witnesses.  And of course, we needed somebody to marry us, so we chose the pastor of the church his brother attended.  It was June 14, 1966.  

At that time, girls had to be 18 and men had to be 21 in Missouri to marry, unless their parents signed for them.  I had heard Cliff's mother saying more than once that she had signed for two of her children to marry and would not sign for any more kids, because neither of those lasted more than a month or two.  I was 21, but Cliff was 20.  Three days before he was to turn 21, we went and got our license.

We were visiting his parents and told them we had the license.  His mom said, "What are you waiting for then?"

I said, "Well, I heard you say you weren't going to sign for any more of your kids to be married, so we're waiting for his birthday."

She replied, "Oh well, I'll sign for you-uns."

And that's why Cliff has three things to celebrate in a very short time in June:  An anniversary, then a birthday, and somewhere in there is Father's Day.

We had known one another approximately six months when we married.