A house fire will break you.

It doesn’t just take everything you own. It takes the memories of scrubbing crayon off every surface and digging Play-Doh out of the carpet. Never again will you walk down hallways lined with slightly crooked photos where you once stepped on Legos at two in the morning. There will never again be tangible evidence of your children’s handprints at that age, left behind on a wall, a table, or a door.

We were supposed to be married on Friday the 13th on the rooftop of The O'Neil, but due to rain, we were married in front of an antique bank vault that fit our vibe just the same. Our first camping trip ended in a flash flood where we almost died. Our second cruise was rerouted due to civil unrest in Haiti. Our third cruise was held off port due to mutant fog, and then Tampa had a power outage at the port.