15 Years

My Big, Fat, Mexican Wedding

My Big, Fat, Mexican Wedding

A couple of days ago, I wrote about how I met the LOML. Today, it’s all about how we got together.

This one’s for you, Sweetie.


On April 8, 1994, I walked through the doors of a country bar, all nervous and anxious because I knew you’d be there.

A few minutes later, I’d learn that my BFF had put on her “bad cop” costume, stuffed you into a booth, and mercilessly interrogated you prior to my arrival. But you didn’t care. You thought it was kind of sweet, actually.

And you also didn’t mind that, when we decided to go get a bite to eat, she tagged along, crowning herself the night’s “chaperone.” Nor did you care that the closest place to the bar that served pizza and beer was Chuck E. Cheese.

There we were. The three of us. On our first date together. Surrounded by screaming kids and talking animals.

You couldn’t tell, but my legs were shaking.

The hours that followed went by like a blur. We danced and drank and talked. We’d go outside to get air, and then danced and drank and talked some more.

At the end of the night, in the middle of the dance floor, I looked up at you so I could say something. But before I could speak, you kissed me.

And it wasn’t just a garden variety, obligatory “first date” peck. This was a Rhett-Butler-make-the-girl-feel-like-Scarlet-O’Hara movie kiss.

You didn’t notice that I’d stopped breathing. Just stopped. Held it in. Because for some reason I thought that if I let out a breath, the kiss would somehow manage to escape.

Then you said, “I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you walk in two days ago.”

And my first thought was, ‘Really, because when I walked through the door two days ago I looked like a wet rat.’

Feigning embarrassment, I said, “Oh, come on. You probably say that to all the girls . . .”

“No, really. My friends have been teasing me for two days straight. I’m, like . . . I mean . . . I really like you.” Then you kissed me again.

And at that moment, I knew.

I knew that you were HIM.

Six years later, to the day, you made me your wife. Even though all the signs along the way screamed, “Run. RUN. As fast as you can. And don’t look back. She’s got more personalities than Sybil. And that family of hers . . . You’re kidding, right? Have you NOT met her Dad?”

You knew full well what you were getting yourself into, but you did it anyway.

Thank GOD you don’t believe in signs.

Happy Anniversary, Sweetie.

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04 2009

7 Comments Add Yours ↓

The upper is the most recent comment

  1. Lisa Lisa #

    Happy anniversary to both of you!!!! This post made me all teary eyed(:’o)

  2. Nic #

    Me too, Lisa. *sniff!* honk!!!

    Geesh, I feel like I landed in a scene of Steel Magnolias…

  3. Nic #

    Oh and of course, Happy Anniversary!!!

  4. 4

    Happy Anniversary!!! What an awesome story!

  5. 5

    Happy Anniversary!! That was the sweetest, most romatic story I’ve ever read in a blog. And I think might have a bit of a crush on your husband now ;-)

  6. urbigbrother #

    Hey you … Happy Anniversary and thankx for making my eyes water before heading out. I couldn’t help but stare at the picture you posted. I remember the day well. You’re a good wife, a great mother, and a fantabulous sister. I love you lots!

  7. 7

    That was a great post~I love thinking about the moment I knew Hubby was The One. It was so romantic.

    Plus that was long before the kids were born and replaced romance with poop and parenting.

    Happy Anniversary!


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