Fourteen years ago this evening I met that freaky fellow I call my husband. It was at a party I didn't really want to go to and (pardon me while I took my horn) I had two guys wanting to get chummy. The first guy offered me a beer and I turned him down as I don't drink beer. The second offered me a beer and I said yes. He charmed me with this dancing as my girlfriend and I taught him hip gyrations and his endless drunken talk of "I've got a cute butt."
As we were leaving he asked for my phone number and I gave it to him. He spent the next 15 hours thinking it was a fake only to find out it really was me on the other end when he called. We went out that night, July 4th, on our first date.
And we've been together since.
The days lately have not been joyful all the time, frustrations and busy lives seem to be the par. But he's always had my back and supported me with anything I've need him for. Sure, at times he drives me crazy, but I can't help but love him.