Fourteen years ago today. It was a Sunday. A beautiful, young nurse became so fed up with the dating life that she let her father walk her down the aisle aboard the Tall Ship Silva in Halifax Harbour. There she stood, never looking more gorgeous in her flowing white wedding gown, in front of a socially awkward, unemployed former lawyer three years her senior. Ignoring her father’s offer to steal a lifeboat and bring her back to shore, she married him.

That loser found a job a few months after the wedding. It was a really bad job, terrible hours, little pay, soul-crushing work. But within weeks of starting, he got a slightly better job with a much better company. A couple of months later, he got a better job within the company and the news that the beautiful young nurse was now expecting a child. Two promotions followed in rapid succession and by the time that child was born (six weeks premature), that nurse’s husband had a job he could be proud of.