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Monday, June 1, 2009

How I met your father

No kiddos yet but one day when we have them they can read this to know the intimate, inappropriate details of how I met Mr. Broome.

First there was me without Mr. Broome.
A wild child, snow licking fool.
I was a care free gal, not focused on any one thing too seriously. Day to day is how I worked with my side kick nut head friends. We lived on the sorority hall and our favorite past time was prank phone calling. Adults? Err, I did have a job.
My friend Amy and I were on the hall one weekend, when many sisters go home. Debating what to do, if anything at all, Amy ended up begging me to go meet some guys at Parelli's with her.
Let me tell you.
I didn't want to go. I remember feeling bloated and red faced. You know right? I remember getting dressed and feeling like my jeans were too tight. They probably were. Nevertheless, I followed Amy. She usually had good judgement of new friends and I felt this could possibly be a fun time.
We went to Parellis. She chatted with her friend, I chatted on my phone. It was a big group of guys. I was not ready to plunge in the conversation, not ready to reveal my red face and too tight jeans.
Mr. Broome was in the group of guys.
I never met him at Parelli's, but this is just the beginning.

This is Amy, who can be blamed for me meeting my husband:) She loves animals.
Moving on.
So Amy wanted me to go out. Do you like how you're getting the blame for everything Amy?
I did. I went out in my too tight jeans and bloated red face. I can't remember ever taking a taxi before this night either. But we were picked up in a taxi. I remember thinking a taxi would be a new adventure for the night. OH WAS IT.
Mr. Broome was in the back seat. One spot left in the van.. next to him. Red hair, red face and all. My Mr. Broome.
Did he know that too tight jeans and I would soon be his wife?
If he had of known he might not have been so forward.
How forward you ask?
Well let me tell you.
The back seat in this so called taxi moved. It leaned up or down, it was automated. Really. A whole automated back seat. Mr. Broome moved the seat up and down up and down.
I sat straight the whole time. What was he thinking this Andy Broome? This red headed loud mouth?
He kept wondering why I wouldn't "lean back" with him.
And do you know what?
After that night of silliness with him, I found myself saying "yes" when he called the next day asking for a date.
Can you believe it?
The only rule, no taxi's, no automated seats.

(Taken in our early courtship)

To be continued..

1 comment:

Aimes said...

ohh I could not love this anymore!! Good thing I've got game and made this happen! hahaha red team gooo!!