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Saturday, December 22, 2012

...How I Met Your Mother...

I only have a few shows that I watch religiously.  And by religiously, I mean I have never missed an episode.  The Mentalist is one (love me some Simon Baker) and How I Met Your Mother is the other.  I also watch some reality TV that I watch when it is on, but I can't say that I have watched every single season, so they don't count!

Anywho...I finally caught up on 3 missed weeks of How I Met Your Mother last night.  And like the season finale from last year (although this wasn't the season finale but should have been), on the last episode, I bawled.  Like seriously cried.  A lot.  And not like sad crying.  Like, the Oh. My. Gosh. I have been watching this evolve for 8 seasons and I pretty much know you all and hang in your circle and I am so happy for my friends that I am just gonna sit here and bawl type of cry!  (Yes, I am totally aware that this is a fictional story line.  Yes, I am totally aware that Neil Patrick Harris is never going to marry someone of the opposite sex and is in a wonderfully happy relationship with David Burtka with two amazing twins.  Yes, I am totally aware that I do not live in New York and hang out at MacLaren's).  But still.

And secretly I kind of wish that Dave had some amazing version of "How I Met Your Mother" that would be awesome to sit down and tell our girls.  It would undoubtedly start like this:  Girls, it was the summer of 2000 that I met your mother.  (Although, he would probably have to leave out some specifics because they just might not be appropriate to share.  And lets be honest, some things you just don't want your kids to know, or think are OK.)  If I had time (and the creativity) to sit here and make up some amazing, wild, crazy, romantic, unbelievable story, I would.  But, I don't.  So I will give you something close to the real version.

How I Met Your Father (the mom version)

It was the summer of 2000.  I had just begun teaching, but really found no need to stay home and do nothing over the summers, or evenings, or weekends, so I worked as a server at Innsbrook Conference Center.  Groups would come in and have meetings and I would serve food to them.  I had been doing that for a while.  And then one day, I came in and saw this guy.  He was hot.  But, I was in a relationship and had been for a long damn time, and saw no hurt in flirting...right?  I think it must have been that first night that we had worked together that I asked who he was.  I found out that he had been working there for a couple of summers and that he had a twin brother, and his twin had just had a baby girl and gotten married.  And that was about it.

***If you have ever worked in a kitchen of a restaurant or anything of the type, I think you would almost have to agree that when you put men and women in a close environment that can be high stress mixed with down times, you will see lots of flirty exchanges.  Or, maybe I only think that because of my own experience.  But I swear to you...every damn person in that place was on a very personal level and seemed to know not a personal boundary.***

So, the super cute guy kept drinking my tea.  I mean, every time I made tea for myself, he stole it and drank it.  He claimed to like my tea.  Hot, right???  OK, not so hot, but definitely flirtatious.

The summer went on and I was having a serious internal struggle.  I had been dating a guy for 7 years, but found this other guy insanely attractive.  So, in my mind, I decided that if I was so attracted to someone else, perhaps 7 years guy wasn't the one for me.

I am not really sure when I found out "the rest of the story" about the guy that I was having a "flirtmance" with, but by the time I found out, I was kind of attached to him.

And the rest of the story goes something like this... He was getting ready to go away to college.  GASP!!!  WHAT???  I thought your brother had a baby and was married???  AND, he's your twin, so your the same age.  And I am a teacher.  WHAT???  But I really like you, and you are legal, and you aren't in high school...and it realistically won't go anywhere...and, but, and, but, and, but, and, but.

That was 12 and 1/2 years, a wedding, 2 houses, and 2 kids ago.

I once wrote a paper while getting my master's about the struggles of dating a guy that was younger.  And not just a couple of years.  6 years.  I don't know what the heck I ever did with it, but I am sure that it would make me laugh now.

So, it's not worthy of an 8 years and still going strong sitcom, but it's a good enough story.  :)

And, I kinda like this guy and these two amazing girls he gave me!


3 comments:

  1. I need the next episode in the story. Did he go to college???

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. He did. He graduated in 3 1/2 years. He finished in December of 2003, we got married in March of 2004, and he graduated in May of 2004.

      It wasn't easy dating a college boy, and we did break up once, but essentially I go to live a life through him that I hadn't lived because I was a college commuter. It was fun and I was accepted by his friends, and he was accepted by mine. :)

      Now, if I didn't tell people, most would have no idea that we aren't the same age. Which is cool. I'll take 31! :)

      Delete
  2. This makes me want to write my story. Which isn't really that exciting, but still probably should be told at some point. There is a similar age difference between my husband and me (only he's the older one.) People are always surprised to find out how old he is. I think I keep him young.

    ReplyDelete

 
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