When I first met my husband, I told him that I’d never date him.
Yes, I’m obviously a woman of my word. But let me back up to the beginning…
I would consider myself kind of a late bloomer. I mean, I had a supersized crush on a guy in high school that never really panned out. I found out years later that he turned out to be gay, which really does explain so much. The funny thing is, that’s not the only guy I’ve kissed who later turned out to be gay, but back to the main story…
I had my first real TRUE LOVE kind of relationship in college – I started dating that boyfriend at the end of freshman year and we stayed together (on and off) for about 4 years. That relationship ended badly (cheater cheater liar pants) and I jumped directly into a serious relationship with a guy who I stalked/met at the gym. I was with him for 3 ½ years and then that relationship died a slow fiery death.
Apparently I don’t do graceful exits.
At this point I was in my mid-twenties and had just bought my own townhouse. This was the first time in my life I just enjoyed being single. I dated around a bit, had some fun random make-out sessions and mostly spent a lot of my Friday nights at the local bar with my friend, Annie.
One night we went to our bar directly from work. It was one of those crappy days where it was pretty much a requirement to drive straight there without changing from your work clothes and immediately order a pint of hard cider and a shot.
I remember it like it was yesterday, we were sitting in a booth and there was the group of guys standing at a table near us. Practically the moment Annie went to the bathroom, the tallest of the guys darted over, slid into the booth and asked if he could buy us a shot. He was kind of cute in a goofy way, so I said sure and before Annie even returned from her super-quick bathroom trip our booth was filled with guys.
That was the beginning of our relationship with The Boys. They were all younger than us and worked blue collar jobs. I was kind of a snob at that point, only dating professional guys who were my age or older. So The Boys were our bar friends.
We’d hang out with them each week and have an awesome time laughing and drinking. Every so often there might be a joking invitation for a date, but I stuck to my “I’m never dating any of you!” stance. Oh I might have made out with one of them, but that was about it.
So, this goes on for about a year. I date a couple guys, but always return to Annie and The Boys at our bar.
One night, a couple girls walk into the bar. You know the type – the girls who are looking for a GOOD TIME so they put effort into their makeup and upgrade their t-shirts and jeans to tight tops and heels. The moment they enter, they are SWARMED with The Boys. Well, all of The Boys except the tallest, goofy Boy that I was hanging out with.
Being the total clueless broad I was, I asked him why he wasn’t swarming the slutty girls with his friends. He shrugged and said that they weren’t his type. So, of course, I had to ask him if THEY weren’t his type, then WHAT WAS his type?!
That’s when it happened.
He turned to me, looked at me with this look I’d never seen on his face before and said, “You”.
I can’t remember exactly what came next, but I’m sure we awkwardly started talking about other stuff. Later that night and through the next week, that response just echoed in my head. I remember having a conversation with Annie and saying to her, “I think I like Tall, Goofy Boy?!” She was just as confused as I on how this had somehow snuck up on me.
Another week later, I ended up hanging out with him one-on-one at the bar. He had stuck around waiting for me to show up after a work event, and had a little more to drink then he was comfortable with. So, I invited him to sleep in my guest room.
Yes, that’s right – in the guest room. I’m a nice girl!
He spent the night and we flirted up a storm, but didn’t even kiss. The next morning, he was laying on the futon, covered in blankets. I was sitting on the office chair (because I was classy and totally had a futon in my office and called it a guest room). My dog, Potter, jumped up to lay with him while we chatted.
Then, it happened.
While we were talking and smiling at each other with googly eyes…
My dog pooped on him.
Yes, Potter literally squatted over him and dropped a doggie log right on top of the blankets on his lap.
Shock. Awe. Embarrassment. Actually, complete mortification would be a better term.
And that was when it really happened – he didn’t get mad or freak out that my dog had just randomly POOPED on him. He laughed. Hysterically. In fact, we both laughed so hard that tears were streaming down my face.
We spent the day together, just hanging out, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. He went home that night and I wasn’t really sure where things were going. I mean, we still hadn’t even kissed yet!
Two days later, I get a call from him. He’s at the Subway on the corner and wants to know if I want anything. I don’t, but invite him to come by anyways. We had our first kiss that night. He never went home – staying that night and following night, and the next. So on and so forth until we realized that he might as well move in.
We got engaged a little over a year later and married about 8 months after that. Travis and I celebrated our 4 year wedding anniversary in October and he still makes me smile and laugh so hard that my face hurts. He’s an amazing husband to me and an incredible father to Jack.
Oh yeah, and besides that whole pooping thing, Potter likes him too.
So now it’s your turn – what was THE MOMENT that you knew your spouse was IT for you?