Our eyes met across a crowded room, and he wondered why there was a middle-schooler at a college party.
And here I thought I looked so sophisticated in my awesome blue cowboy boots.
Ah, well. He upgraded his opinion of me soon enough, after we’d been cast opposite one another in the spring play, and he discovered I was smart enough to get all his jokes.
I’m pretty sure that’s what hooked him. Or it might have been the fact that I had a car, and it was a loooong walk to the comic book store in town.
Or the fact that I was as big a Lord of the Rings geek as he was.
Or my excellent crock-pot chili.
Whatever it was, I’m grateful for it.
Eighteen years later (thirteen since the wedding day), he’s still making me laugh. I drive a minivan now with two carseats and three boosters in the back, and he’s the guy putting the comic books in the stores. I still make a mean chili, although now it’s vegetarian because Mr. Meat-and-Potatoes gave up eating beef.
Last night we watched part of The Lord of the Rings, and he didn’t even mind when I got all goosebumpy over Aragorn.
Our eyes are still meeting across crowded rooms. Only now they’re crowded with our own offspring (who, let’s face it, make as much noise as a bunch of drunken college kids). I still haven’t managed to pull off "sophisticated," boots or no boots. He doesn’t seem to mind. There’s a look in his eyes that says he’d live it all over again, even the hard parts. Talk about goosebumps.
Man, can I pick ’em.
Giving New Meaning to the Phrase “Dad Needs to Stop Bringing His Work Home with Him”
Last week’s reading, and assorted other things