In April 2005 I was working for Blockbuster and continuing to go to school to be a teacher. I had two years of college under my belt and I was feeling pretty good about life as a whole. At the time I had a crush on a guy I worked with and was waiting for him to ask me out. The day came when he finally did and I couldn't have been more excited/confused. Why confused? Well, he asked me to go to the race, as Nascar race. Now, I knew what that was, my dad and grandpa had shared a love for the sport since long before I was ever born, but my only dealings with it was Sunday afternoon nap time while my dad sipped beer and ate nachos. So of course I gave my most enthusiastic "Yes!" and then panicked because I knew nothing about what I had gotten myself into.
It turned out that not only had he invited me, there was a whole group going. So, it wasn't a date. No big deal, I'm sure I'd still have fun. I can remember my excitement and telling my bff. She questioned it extensively by quizzing me on drivers and their sponsors, then later concluding I didn't know anything about the sport and that I obviously shouldn't go to something I had not interest in just for a boy. I'm so glad I didn't take that advice.
The weekend arrived and the group stopped by my modest duplex to pick me up. My crush however, was not with them. As it would turn out his family was also invited and he was going with them. Awesome. I felt lame. I had paid over $80 for a ticket to an event I didn't know much about (oh ya he had me pay for my own ticket) and now I wouldn't even be spending time with the guy that invited me. Well I was already on this unstoppable train so I just went with it. Greatest decision ever. That weekend I ended up getting to know my future husband and his family. What a win for me.
That night with the group was fabulous. We went out to eat. Spent time in a pool. And laughed until my sides hurt. I had a great time, and had let go of the old crush and moved on to a new one.
On the looooong car ride to the speedway the next day we were stuck in traffic. This new crush and I had been going back in forth in friendly banter since the trip had started. That spring Keith Anderson released a song called "Pickn' Wildflowers". A seemingly innocent title with mildly suggestive lyrics. Being the ever flirtatious girl I was back then, I noticed the wildflowers on the side of the road and made a comment about them in reference to the song. Well my crush picked up what I was saying and ran with it. To this day that is still our song, we even danced our first married couple dance to it five years later.
But back to the jacket. That weekend was fun. I had left the old and moved on to the new. Bill and I were great at the banter, but neither one of us had exchanged phone numbers or set up a time to see each other again. I remember feeling sad when they dropped me back home. I thought it was done. Little did I know that I had forgotten to get my denim jacket out of the car. Bill sent me a text message sometime later letter me know that he had been keeping it safe for me that that I should stop by his place to pick it up. Had I not forgotten that jacket, we may not have ever met up again. The rest is history. I went by to pick it up. We talked and played cards for hours and at the end of the evening we shared our first kiss. It was magical and sweet and something I'll never forget.
Five years later we got married. A year later we had Billy. And two years later here we are. To quote Phil, "Happy, happy, happy!" The jacket has stayed with us this whole time. Even though my weight has gone up and down, I've never been able to part with it. I wore it a few times after our first kiss, but I know I haven't been small enough to wear it in at least six years. I tried it on a few nights ago. It fits! I'll be sporting that baby on our next night out. (I'll post a pic in it when I do.) Maybe we can relive that first kiss.
That's all folks!
I'm out!
Mrs. T
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