*Editor’s
Note: I wrote story for my sons while I had four straight free hours with no
internet during my son’s swim meet. I’ve
been meaning to write this story for years for my kids to read someday, but
never got around to it. I thought it fitting that I finally write it right
after the final episode of “How I Met Your Mother” aired. Although I wrote it for my sons, I am posting
it here for the world to read if the world is VERY bored. Hope the world enjoys.
HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER
For as long as I can remember, I knew
your mom. I should say, for as long as I
can remember, I knew of your mother. She
moved about three blocks away from my house when she was in third grade. Her family moving in was not a momentous occasion
for me as she was a year younger than I and she was in the neighboring ward.
Although we grew up around the block
from each, it would be years before we would say our first words to each other.
That’s not to say I didn’t know who she was.
I would see her occasionally at the ward house or at youth functions or
at school. When I would see her, I would
quickly admire her looks but then quickly forget her.
At this point of the story, I think it
is important to point out that while I may have been a decent looking lad, as a
teenager, I was painfully awkward and shy in my dealings with girls. I covered this awkwardness the best I could
by acting the fool, using my humor as a disguise for my fear. As you might guess, girls didn’t exactly fall
for the goofy idiot boy.
While some girls found my routine to
be humorous and silly, they weren’t exactly banging down my door to go on dates
with me. As a result, I didn’t go on my
first date until I was nearly seventeen and I did not kiss a girl until I was
seventeen and a half. Even those two
milestones were filled with awkwardness and embarrassment for me, but those are
stories for another day.
At the age of 18, I was just starting
to gain my footing and confidence with the ladies. I had started dating a
rather cute girl I really liked that I had sat next to in seminary. Unfortunately, on what was likely our fifth
date, I told her 12-year-old sister a dirty joke and she stopped returning my
phone calls. Chalk that one up to
idiotic stupidity.
When I hit the age of eighteen and a
half, I still hadn’t had a meaningful conversation with your mom and I started
thinking seriously about a serving a Mormon mission. Things were cruising along
fine (besides my lack of success getting dates and with girls in general) and
then all heck broke loose. (The word “heck” used here instead of “hell” as I
felt it was appropriate when used in the same paragraph as talking about my
mission.)
Oh, I need to backtrack a little bit
here. There is one important ironic
event that happened when I was seventeen. I had been asked to a girl’s choice
dance by what I considered to be, at the time, a girl of lesser value. I won’t
go into it much more than I considered her to be “nerdy” and this was saying
something because I was about as nerdy as they come. (Hey, I never said I was a kindhearted
teenager.)
Anyway, she asked me to a dance and I
was too chicken to say no and I don’t believe my kindhearted mom would have let
me say no. I went, hesitantly, making up
some story about how my parents insisted I was home by 11:30.
I remember being picked up by a group
of people, most of which I barely knew.
This girl informed me we had one more person to pick up and much to my
surprise, soon we were back in my neighborhood, in Cathi’s driveway.
I don’t remember thinking much of
Cathi before, but when I saw her come out of her house, dressed in a pant-suit
dress (yes, it was a thing and it was hot
on her), I was taken aback. She was
one of the most dazzling girls I had ever seen and I remember wishing that I
was the one that had been asked by her.
She probably doesn’t remember much
about me that night, but she was the highlight of my night. I remember every
moment, every chance I had, I was glancing her way and taking in her glow. I was mesmerized with her smile and those large
dimples; her enormous brown eyes made my hands sweat. Kids, we have pictures of Cathi and I
together in this dance group. Someday,
I’ll show you the photo and you may notice my eyes wandering to your mom.
So the dance that evening may have
planted the seed, but it really all started one night at the Little
Caesars. My friend and I were picking up
a pizza or two one Friday night. Our
plans included sitting around and wallowing in our lady-less misery, just as we
had done Friday nights before for as long as we could remember.
As we waited for our pizza to brought
to the counter, I turned to see your mother and your grandmother enter the
door. You may have seen movies or read
books (more likely seen movies as I know
how much you boys love to read) about time standing still in a moment and I’m
telling you boys, both time and my heart stopped at that exact second. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever
seen.
As my daze wore off, I noticed her
smiling and waving and I don’t know what came over me, but I immediately walked
over to her. I started talking, mostly
gibberish, but talking nonetheless, about who knows what and what knows
who. I believe I squeaked out a couple
sentences about crappy pizza being perfect for a Friday night. She giggled and left with her mom and I stood
silent and stunned in the middle of the Little Caesars floor.
I recall turning to my friend as she
left and saying, “Wow, she is so amazing.”
He replied with something like, “Yeah, she has gotten really cute
lately.” I replied by staring out the
pizza joint window at her as she got in her car.
At this point, I was absolutely taken
with Cathi McPheeters. I thought about
her at least once an hour. A couple days
later, I was playing basketball with some older men in my church gym. As we finished up a game, I noticed my
newfound crush enter the gym doors, dressed in a flowing dress and looking
quite incredible.
The same sense of tingling and fluttering
came over me, just as it had at the Little Caesars. Again, without thinking (I have to say, for me to approach and talk to a girl was very rare at
this point in my life.) I jolted towards her and again, I flustered out a
bunch of awkward nonsense and goofiness that even the great Chris Farley would
be proud of. Yet, in spite of my clumsy
word slinging, I noticed that she laughed at me. She always laughed at me. I saw this as a sparkle of hope.
As I returned to the game, I walked
over to my Bishop, who had been playing with us. I told him, (and he will vouch for this) “See that girl over there?” “Yeah, sure”, he replied. “I am going to marry that girl someday.” He laughed a big, hearty laugh and said these
four words that will forever engraved on my brain, “Yeah, you wish, Abe.”
Well, another couple weeks passed and
I still had not gotten up the courage to actually call your mom. However, the good news was that her best
friend had started dating my good friend and this would provide ample
opportunity for much needed face-to-face time.
Also, at this time, I started to
finally find my courage. I decided to
call my former gal pal (Remember: “Dirty
joke to little sister girl”) and give it one more try. Shockingly, she decided to give me one more
chance and said yes. (I never did find
out the exact reason she stopped dating me.
I simply assume it was because I told her little sister a dirty joke.
But I think that’s a pretty safe assumption, don’t you?) I made the date for Friday night,
December 23.
The day after I made that date, I went
to my dentist for a checkup. A
young, new girl cleaned my teeth. She was bubbly and attractive and she
clearly, shockingly again, was flirting with me. Clearly, there was something about the way my
gums didn’t bleed when she flossed them that made her attracted to me. I left the office, got home, called the
dentists office and with my newfound courage, asked her if she’d do a follow-up
appointment on Monday, December 26.
I had two dates with two different
girls lined up in four days. Not only
had I beaten my personal record of one date lined up in months, but also I had
crushed it. I was feeling as confident
as I ever had.
Now, I know what you are thinking:
What about mom? Did you just forget about her?
Well, the answer is yes and no. I
never once stopped thinking about her, but I was realistic. Your mom was the most beautiful girl I had
ever seen in person. I knew my chances
at actually landing her were about .2% and that was only because she would
actually laugh at my lame jokes. Besides, I wasn’t really looking for a girlfriend,
I was “preparing” for a mission. (Preparing
in quotes because HA! I wasn’t really doing much preparing at the time.)
With my date on Friday, December 23rd
fast approaching, I began spending more time with my friend that had started
dating your mom’s best friend. Tuesday evening we all went to my friends’
hockey game together. Your mom and I sat
in the backseat together. We immediately
hit it off and ended up talking and laughing the entire night.
After the game, Cathi and her
girlfriends came to my house and hung out for a couple hours. This was a new experience for me, having a
large group of girls just hanging around my house. I believe my mom was a little flabbergasted
at even the thought. But I couldn’t have
cared less about the other girls there.
Your mom was by far the cutest and the only one I had any interest in.
That night I asked your mom if she
would be going to the East High School “Battle of the Bands” the next night. She said she wasn’t planning on it, but she
would go with my friends and I. So there we had it, a real date. Well, kinda a real date. There we had it, a place that we would be
together at the same time again.
The Battle of the Bands was ferocious
and raging, but I didn’t listen to a single song. Your mom and I spent most of the evening
talking and being as close as we could to each other. When we dropped her off, we were with a
carload of my friends. I didn’t want to
make a big scene and have my friends whistling and whooping from the car as I
walked her to the door, so I made up some stupid lie about having to go to the
bathroom and not being able to get out of the car.
Your mom still teases me about that
fake bathroom lie, but I don’t care.
Beyond all the belief I could muster, she clearly liked me and I was
going to ask her out on an ACTUAL DATE.
In the back of my mind, I had a lingering doubt that a girl as smoking
hot as Cathi would never have any sort of romantic interest in me. I called her
up and made a date for Friday, December 23rd and she said yes. Clearly, she was just messing with me.
As I got off the phone with your mom,
I immediately called the former girl I dated and broke off the date. I then
called the dentist girl and broke off that date as well. I was going ALL IN, putting all my eggs in this
one, super hot egg basket.
Friday, December 23rd
quickly came and I picked up your mom at her house. I had an entire evening
planned, but was also just going to go with the flow, or whatever, I had no
clue what I was doing. Needless to say,
I was also nervous.
We went downtown to see the movie
“Mixed Nuts” staring my favorite comedian, Steve Martin. The movie sucked the worst amount of suck
that a movie can suck, but as we left, she held my hand. She held my hand. No girl had ever held my hand before. Certainly not a girl that could easily be a
model.
We walked around temple square, with
its lighted Christmas décor and its festive feel. We held hands the entire time. I learned for the first time that I get very
sweaty hands when I am holding the hand of a pretty girl. If you inherit this trait from me boys, I am
very sorry.
We finished the night at our family’s
favorite restaurant, Crown Burger. We
sat across from each other. It was
awesome.
Finally, I drove her home to drop her
off. She invited me in (this does NOT mean the same thing in Mormon
town, Utah) and we sat on the couch and watched “Saturday Night Live” with
her 11-year-old brother. We sat close
and she was actually touching me.
Now, for you non-geek, ladies men in
high school out there, maybe a super pretty girl touching you is not that big a
deal. But for me, this was like hitting
the geekdom jackpot! My heart raced like
it never had before. It was all that I could do to not jump up and start
dancing and singing a Salt N’ Peppa song.
While we watched Norm McDonald deliver
the fake news, I gained just enough courage to lean over to your mom and
whisper, “I am just waiting for your brother to fall asleep so I can kiss
you.” At the time, I thought it sounded
very dapper, but looking back, I realize this was perhaps the dorkiest thing I
could have said at the time.
With her brother asleep, I was ready
to make my move. I leaned in for the kill and it actually happened. A gorgeous, popular, insanely hot girl
actually kissed a no name goofball like me. It was like something out of crazy
comedy where a gorgeous, popular, insanely hot girl actually kissed a no name
goofball like me.
We kissed for what seemed like an
eternity, but it was probably only for two minutes. It would be the second and last girl I would ever
kiss. (Much to my embarrassment at the time, but something I am kind of proud
of now.)
Your mom and I continued to spend more
and more time together. She was a senior
in high school and I was in my first year at the University of Utah. We were inseparable for six months. There was no doubt we had fallen in love. She
asked me to her high school dance and I proudly went. It was the best dance I ever went to. She did not go to her prom. We were together and everyone knew it.
Now kids, you may recall that I
mentioned that Mormon mission earlier in this tale. Well, it still weighed heavy on me. I felt it was something that I absolutely had
to do. However, suddenly the choice had
become much more difficult. I was head over Sketchers in love. Leaving Cathi was not really something that
appealed to me.
After a lot of thought, prayer and
contemplation and with the support of your mom, I decided to leave for two
years. Now, you may or may not be aware
of this, but when a boy leaves a girlfriend home while he goes on a mission,
the odds are not exactly in favor of her waiting around for him. I read it was estimated that 95% of girls
don’t wait around and of those 5% that do wait, only half of them end up getting
married. As hard as it was to hear this and given her extreme beauty, I knew
that your mom most likely wouldn’t be around for me if I left.
Alas, your mother proved faithful. Of
course, she dated and dated often while I was gone. In fact, I am fairly sure she had one or two
“serious” boyfriends, although she may not admit to it. However, she wrote at least every week and
never once questioned our loyalty to each other.
After two years and a whole lot of
missing of your mom, she was there as I got off the airplane. We hugged like I had never left. The very night I got home, I kissed her. It was like falling in love all over
again. One year later, we were married.
I must admit, coming home and hearing
about the boys she dated (from others,
mostly) was very difficult for me.
By nature, I am a very jealous person and hearing second hand about men
that pursued her for two years was taxing on me. I mean, given her striking
looks and her cheerful personality, I knew she would be highly courted. I’m
positive she grew tiresome of hearing me whine, complain and worry about them
after I got home. But I’m grateful she
stuck with me.
She may not know this, but to this
day, I have issues with jealousy. I
think about those two years we spent apart and I have a hard time coming to
terms with what may or may not have happened while I was gone. That being said, I have become much more able
to manage my jealousy and, more importantly, I am able to hide it from her
which makes our marriage ever so happy.
So, there you have it, boys. That is
how I met your lovely mother. She may
have a different perspective on it, but you will have to wait for the sequel,
“How I Met Your Father”, which likely will never be written.
