Romantic

 

 

Rob and I have tended not to be romantic about such things as anniversaries. We met on June 22, 1988, when I picked him up at a bar after being admonished, "Watch out for that guy. He has crazy eyes." Talk about your turn-ons. I would say meeting Rob would rank as the No. 1 romantic thing that's ever happened to me. The first time I touched his hand I felt an immediate surge -- not just of lust, but something more. And he held my hand back, which looking back is weird because Rob is tactile-aversive. Of course, he probably thought he was getting laid, or at least that there was a possibility, and he could manage to touch if sex was on the horizon, I suppose.

We were immediately besotted and Rob was living in my house within 48 hours. We decided to get married at the end of the summer, after the kids met each other, because we wanted to do it before school started. I can't remember why school starting was important in the marriage decision, but it was for some reason. We had Rob's mom track down a Justice of the Peace who could do it as soon as possible. Actually in Ohio, there are no JPs -- real judges perform weddings. Rob's mom found some guy in Miamisburg who was running for re-election to marry us.

We got our wedding license the previous Thursday at 4:55 p.m., much to the disgust of the civil servants, which was the minimum advance for getting married on the following Monday. In Ohio you have X number of days after you get the wedding certificate, with a minimum wait of about 3 to 4 days and a maximum of -- I can't remember, maybe 30 or 60 days or something. Getting the wedding certificate on Thursday gave us Friday, Saturday and Sunday -- fortunately the waiting period is counted in actual days, not business days, but then so are marriages.

I ran around getting a ham and cake because we'd invited people over after the event. We all got dressed up. I got flowers and made a daisy ring in my hair. I got one of the best compliments ever when one of the baggers at the Krogers said, "I always dreamed that if I get married that my bride would look exactly like you."

We piled the kids in the car and headed to Miamisburg where the ceremony was performed in the judge's teenie office with papers strewn everywhere. The girls were so disappointed that they didn't get to be flower girls in some big ceremony. Rob's son, Jesse, was relieved. We stopped at TGIFriday's after and had a family dinner and headed home to the rest of our relatives.

I always had trouble remembering the date of the wedding because Rob and I were together as of June 22. I knew it was the Monday before school started in 1988, so one year I looked it up on a perpetual calendar. We got married Aug. 28, but we never remember to celebrate it. We're a little better about the June 22 date, but only because I like to celebrate it -- kind of. I tend to get weighed down by all the birthdays and anniversaries and holidays we celebrate and if I can limit one celebration to just a dinner out, if we feel like it, that's good enough for me.

Of course, this doesn't stop us from trying each year to catch the other being thoughtless and forgetting, which isn't hard because more often than not we both forget. The person who remembers first tries to act all hurt and is never taken seriously. It becomes part of the score of light comic opera that is our marriage.

I remembered our anniversary this year because I was shopping anyway -- I was at the pet store. They have cute cards so I got Rob one. We're suckers for pet cards and get them from all the pets to each other. It fills up the mantle and lets us pretend we have lots of people who care about us. I didn't get him anything else because other than a shock collar, there isn't much at a pet store for him.

When we got home I was trying to get it up on the mantle so I could prove -- once again -- to Rob that he's a thoughtless lout. He, however, figured out my plan and so he took the lobster bisque he'd brought home from lunch that day and with his fingernail wrote "I love you" in the Styrofoam. I say I win because I had an anniversary-dedicated item, but he says he wins because he actually bought me something. I tried to claim that his leftovers don't count, but he successfully pointed out that he must have bought the bisque for me because he wouldn't eat that in his wildest dreams, which is true. The lobster bisque was great BTW.

So there it is, my anniversary present. I'm practically giddy in anticipation of what he's going to do for our 20th anniversary next year.

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Fair time is coming up so I'm trying out different sugar cookie recipes. These were "crispy sugar cookies." They're OK, but they're not contest winners. I'm going to try out "Crystal diamonds next."