(to the tune of "The 12 Days of Christmas")
For our twelfth year of marriage*, my sailor gave to me
Eleven sets of curtains
Ten lonely birthdays
Nine hours' notice
Eight days to make tape
Seven foreign bar tabs
Six holes in my resume
Fiiiiiive cancelled vacaaaaaays
Three section duty
Two civilian shirts **
And laundry that smells like ship.
* It's been 19 as of the end of this month, but you know. Song.
**Just enough for the weekend [sic]!