…because my ex-boyfriend’s older brother had his lap vomited on (in France) by the friend of my husband’s best friend from college. Got that?

The first time I met my husband, he was under the influence of something crazy and was talking about how wonderful it was that he just hugged a tree and really bonded with it. He doesn’t remember this meeting, but I do, and I like to remind him about it. I was dating someone at the time (the ex mentioned above) and had no idea that I would later become his wife. The tree hugging thing should have clued me in, but I’ve never been one to get premonitions.

The second time I met my husband, I went to a party at his house and brought a little gift for the host. I won’t say what the gift was, but my (future) husband remarked loudly that it smelled like vomit. I was a little embarrassed. But later, he and his mother made me tea for the ride home, and it was all better.

The third time I met my husband, I was chasing after a friend of his like a dog in heat. How embarrassing, now that I think back. I vividly remember hearing “Sweat Dreams” playing from a mix tape in the car and using it to pump my psyche up on the drive to the party. Thankfully, everyone at the party had more sense than I did, and my (future) husband was the one putting the moves on me. I am very thankful, because that other guy would absolutely have been a terrible match for me (I believe he was the vomiter from paragraph one). The night ended with all my (future) husband’s friends leaving suggestive condoms on all the counter tops. What?! Did they think I was easy?! I swear, we did not use any of them. My husband was a gentleman, even around his obnoxious (but safe) friends.

I won’t bore you with the rest of the meetings. I seem to remember a Chinese food date, then a week-long camping trip. The rest is history. Happy Valentine’s Days, sweety.