Raise your glasses: an anniversary toast in nine wretched couplets

Two years ago, we had our third

First date, although you may have heard

There’s some contention in our midst:

Should we be counting from that kiss

Which was third first, or maybe fourth

If you ask me? Except, of course,

There was the time we almost split,

So this is four-point-five, or fifth

Of our first kisses and first dates.

But then the Lad thinks we should rate

More highly still the times he asked

Me out officially; the task

Is now the way to figure those.

(How many times there were, who knows.)

So all that can be certain is:

Our third (fourth? fourth-point-five?) first kiss

Set us upon this primrose path.

So here’s to me, the Lad, and math.