Last week someone at work asked me how I met my husband.
“The short version or the long version?”
She looked at the clock. “I don’t care, it’s 2 o’clock in the morning.”
Right. So. I told her about Ireland and the “Dear John” letter and then college and then I told her about transferring to Kansas and the whole thing about my Mom being at his friend’s house and how we both knew the other was going to be there and then I said, “Yeah, he found out he got the job in Kansas City like on a Friday and he moved there and started work on Monday.”
And that’s when it happened.
I said, “You know, that should have been my first clue that I’d be moving every year for the rest of my life, huh?”
Man, I’m slow.