Four Years and Change

"I was going to ask you to play House, but I think you'd be a weird example for our children." ~ Susie from Calvin and Hobbes

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Last week at dinner, The Boy and I were chatting over some Thai food and he said to me, "You understand me better than anyone else I know." He said it in such a sweet and sincere way that I wanted to jump across the dishes of food and give him a big smooch, but I restrained myself. I'll remember the way he said that for a long time. (Although sometimes I know him too well and it annoys him, like when your mom knows you're doing something naughty even though you deny it.)

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Four years and almost 365 days ago, I met The Boy under circumstances that involved him thinking that I was British (and thus having a cute accent), that my name was Bridget, and that I looked good in a sweater (a la Lana Turner). Only one of those three scenarios somewhat resembles the truth.

The anniversary of our 5-year meeting is coming up next week, although neither one of us is quite sure of the exact date. I blew off an initial invite with him to see a Sunday matinee of Duck Soup (which he still mentions on occasion) and he was over two hours late to our eventual first date that might have been on a Wednesday (and that is what I counter with). But the rest of the "four years and change," as he puts it, has gone quite swimmingly, all things considered. Life with The Boy's been the best and brightest example in my life of where jumping into something (or someone) with total abandon and impulsiveness was the best thing I could have ever done. I can't even imagine what my life would be like without my Boy, all of these details that make up our days are like the colorful sprinkles on our Cupcake of Life:

He is all Brooks Brothers and I am all about $5 sunglasses and big rhinestone rings...
He loves Ealing Studios comedies and I love Stanley Kubrick (but we both agree on Billy Wilder)...
He'd throw me over for Carole Lombard (and I totally support him on that one), although he's the one that bought me the large vintage photo of Errol Flynn...
He has two expensive watches but is always late and I don't wear a watch but am compulsively early...
He's a Presbyterian and I am some sort of infidel...
He steals my fuzzy socks and I steal his t-shirts with the holes in them...
He likes Paul and I like George...
I've been to Paris, Venice and Buenos Aires without him but together we've been to a party at the Playboy Mansion and to Disneyland...
He bought the camera and I take the pictures...
He makes me laugh--a lot. I hope I make him laugh almost as much...

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We always seem to be entertaining each other and not on purpose. Our life seems to be all about what happens when you could be surprised at any moment.

I look at all of our little quirks and our life together is like mish-mash of ideas and comings and goings, an intricate puzzle that wouldn't seem to harmonize but in fact meshes perfectly in many ways, on many levels. His neverending boyish charm and giant dimple suckered me, but it's his fine mind and genuine compassion that tethers my heart. Plus he's a good kisser. I'll probably get in trouble for saying that.

So here's to our random meeting, our random anniversary on whatever day we think it was, and to lots of years and "change" to come, Boy o' my Heart.

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Photo of Harold Lloyd and Jobyna Ralston in a still from one of our jointly favorited movies, Girl Shy (1924). Thanks to Bill for directing me to DoctorMacro and the amazing images there.