Today is mine and Adam’s 9 year date-iversary. Yes – we still celebrate the anniversary of our first date. Not because we are super-sappy, uber-lovey kind of people. But because, at least for me, it is the date on which I can look back and say “That. That is when you changed my life.”
Saturday, March 15, 2008, began as a typical morning. I woke up in the little farm house I was renting in Bolivar, MO and perused my closet for something to wear. I was working a double shift for maurices that day: half of the day at my store in Bolivar and half of the day at the store in Springfield. I needed to wear something comfortable and fashionable, but it also had to be green and a little sassy. I had a date that night and we were going to the St. Patrick’s Day pub crawl (at my request – I was one classy broad back then).
I settled on wide leg, pinstriped black pants and a green tank peeking out beneath a tight black tee, accented with a green bead necklace and black ballet flats.
I was unsure of what to expect when it came to my date. We had met 2 weeks prior at a birthday dinner for my friend Rachel, and he had contacted me and asked me out via MySpace – pause for reaction. Yes, my husband asked me out on MySpace. I logged into my account* the other day to see if I could find the messages, but they were no longer available. If they would have been there, you would have seen an awkward exchange about barking dogs, lack of sleep, and my love for pub crawls. We exchanged numbers and agreed that I would meet at his house before proceeding downtown.
(*turns out it still exists and yours probably does, too. The messages were gone, but the pictures, posts, and my Top 8 were still just as I had left them all those years ago)
After a grueling 15 hour work day, I walked up to his door and rang the doorbell. He invited me in and offered me a beer. Great start! (although I’m pretty sure he offered me a Miller Light which went against my strict Bud Light only beer palate back then) I sat down and instantly knew I wasn’t getting back up. My feet hurt so badly that there was no way I was going to be able to stand/dance/party all night at a pub crawl. Instead, we sat on his couch and tried to find something to watch on TV.
We started talking, looking through pictures from his time in Europe, and sharing stories from various aspects of our lives. We’d occasionally look up and decide we wanted to watch something else, so we’d change the channel. I distinctly remember watching part of The Gremlins movie and at least one episode of Full House. Before we knew it, it was 4am and we were still sitting on the couch completely enthralled in each other.
He offered to let me stay, rather than driving all the way back to Bolivar. I had disaster-date planned and had a bag packed to stay with a friend anyway, so I agreed. He left the room while I changed into PJs and crawled into bed. When he joined, he rolled over the other way and said “Good night.”
The sun glared into the room at 9am, and being a morning person, I was wide awake and ready to get the day started. There was just one problem. I was pinned against the wall with no way out of the bed without waking a guy I barely knew. I hadn’t asked whether or not he was a morning person, so I erred on the side of not and stayed put. He eventually woke up (at 11) and took me to lunch.
We both had things we needed to do that afternoon, but agreed to meet back up for dinner. After dinner, we feel right back into conversation on the couch and before we knew it, it was 2am. He again offered for me to stay, and I again accepted. This time, when he crawled into bed, he rolled towards me and kissed the back of my shoulder before saying “Good night.” He woke up first the next morning, having to get ready for work and be there by 8am. I didn’t have to be at the store until 1pm, so he let me sleep in and told me just to lock up when I left.
When I got up to use the restroom, I found a clean towel on the counter with a note: “Good morning – I hope you have a great day” topped with a couple of purple grape hyacinth flowers tied together with a blade of grass. He sure was smooth! After spending almost 56 straight hours with this guy and waking up to that, I was hooked.
From that fateful first date forward, he has continued to woo me. He continues to surprise me. He continues to fight for me. He continues to make our relationship a priority. He likes me. He loves me. He tolerates me. He doesn’t stay up late watching TV with me anymore, but I think I’ll let him off the hook for that one.
Happy date-iversary, my love.