The year was 2006. Everyone was gettin' down to the funky sounds of Gnarls Barkley and saying, "my wiiiife," in a Borat voice was still objectively funny. There, on the North Shore of Chicago, at a little institution called Northwestern University, two young tap dancers were about to shuffle their way into each other's hearts. Well, maybe not right then and there. As it was, the two of us first met performing with Tonik Tap, Northwestern's premiere (and only) tap dance company. We instantly became close friends, bonded by our mutual love of tap (duh), music, Deavon Mitchell and having luscious, curly hair. Of course, any sparks of attraction that may have existed were relegated to the back-burner as our hearts were fully committed to our art (that or we just never made a move). Fast forward a few years and tap shows, and our friendship further deepened, enough so that when Mike graduated college and moved to New York City (home of Jay Z) in 2009, we maintained contact – despite having no idea whether we’d ever find ourselves living in the same city again. As luck would have it, being surrounded by so many Yankees fans was too much for Mike to take, and in 2010, he returned to the quieter comforts of Chicago (home of Vince Vaughn) just as Sam was heading into the final year of her dual degree program. Almost immediately, the friendship rekindled with sparks anew, and we both wondered if there was perhaps something more than just friendship simmering between us. This would all come to a head on February 25, 2011 (please do not publicize this date, as it is instrumental to many of our shared passwords). As a massive snowstorm bore down on the upper Midwest, Mike, Sam and Sam’s roommate made plans to grab dinner at the Hopleaf, Chicago’s premiere destination for craft beers and Belgian frites. Alas (or should we say fortuitously), Sam’s roommate had to cancel at the last minute, and Hopleaf proved too crowded for dining that night, so we made our way instead to a small gastropub called In Fine Spirits (RIP) up the street. There, under the romantic lights of North Clark street, with flurries cascading past the window, a winter’s meal between friends officially veered into date territory as Mike picked up the check and invited Sam back for a drink to the four-bedroom apartment he was living in by himself (for $500 a month! In Chicago! Man, what a time.). By the end of that weekend, we were officially a pair and well on our way to this enduring matrimony. Ha! Just kidding. It would actually be another thirteen years including three cities, a cross-country move, six years of maintaining a long-distance relationship, two Bachelor’s degrees, a Master’s Degree in television, a PhD in Experimental Psychology, tap dancing professionally with Chicago Tap Theatre, performing violin as part of the Santa Monica Symphony, selling a TV pilot, various career shifts, adopting the cutest dog in the world, summitting a mountain in Chile, jumping out of a plane, the Chicago Cubs winning the World Series, Mike growing a handlebar mustache, living apart during a global pandemic, living together during a global pandemic, countless family gatherings, amazing times with old friends, countless new friends made along the way, adventures, arguments, joy, tears, love, and Bob Odenkirk. Anyway, it’s been a wild ride, and we cannot be more excited to celebrate with each and every one of you on this amazing day as Mike finally, and hilariously, gets to call Sam [Borat voice], “my wiiiiiiife.”