I met my amazing hottie husband twenty-one years ago today.
Would you like to hear the story?
It was August 24, 1987, and I had arrived for new student orientation the weekend before classes started for fall semester at BYU-Provo. My parents and sister had helped me unload my belongings into my on-campus dorm room that afternoon. I had met my new roommate and several other girls on my floor. At dinner we learned that our Y-group was going to meet for get-to-know-you games and a tour of campus that evening, and there were going to be boys there.
Boys?! Sign me up!
I went down a few minutes early to the lobby where our group was to meet, towing my roommate and a couple of other girls for security. After all, there were going to be boys there!
And boys there were. A lean, muscular young man with dark hair and large blue eyes looked up as my giggling group entered the room. His teeth were perfect, and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. His biceps bulged out from the sleeves of his blue t-shirt. I'm sure there were other boys there too, but I don't remember much about them. I saw only him. Dang, but he was cute.
At BYU, the mandatory cliche pattern was always followed when meeting someone new: "What's your name, where're you from, what's your major?" His name was Tom. He was from Seattle. He was studying Electrical Engineering. When I told him I was from Idaho, he asked which town.
"Blackfoot," I said. (I grew up in the potato farming community west of Blackfoot, but no one knows or cares where backwater Pingree is, so I always say Blackfoot. It saves time).
"Really? I have an aunt and uncle that live near Blackfoot."
And because Idaho is a little hick state with exactly 25 people living in it, he told me the name of his uncle, naively confident that I would know who that was.
I gaped. "Mr. **** is your Uncle?! Mr. **** taught me how to drive!! Your aunt is the librarian at my high school! No way!"
And with that, a bond was formed between us. A pretty weak bond at first, actually, considering that he didn't ask me out for nearly two months after that despite me being oh so available, but there was something there, to be sure. Well, I felt it, anyway.
And the rest, as they say, is history.