As most of you know, I am married to the one and only Daniel. He’s a swell guy. In marrying him I went against the rules: I married an outsider. Yes, it’s true. He’s from Michigan. What can I say, he’s really handsome.
Plus, being from Michigan gives me such gems as “laig” and “flegg.” What, you might wonder, are those words? Guess. Go on. Yep – it’s “leg” and “flag”!! He says them all crazy! I love it. My favorite is when he is playing a video game and says, “Oh, crap,” except it comes out as “Ooh, cray-ap” with the accent. I. Love. It. One of the first times we were talking he mentioned the cuch. Due to my complete lack of tact I asked what in the world he was talking about. He said, “You know – the cuch. It sits in your living room… often next to a chair.” Ohhhhhhhhhhh – COUCH. See? It’s fabulous. The next time you see him ask him to say flag. You will be glad you did.
Speaking of the first time we met, I was thinking earlier about how it was only by the grace of God that we ever progressed past our first meeting. Immediately upon meeting Daniel, my mother determined he was The One for me (she’s psychic!), and told me I just had to meet him. I came up with a plan: Look awesome, act awesome, basically just be awesome. Of course, anyone who knows of me and my imminent awkwardness is already seeing trouble on the horizon.
Anyone who knows me also knows I am always, always, aaaalways running late for church. It’s my superpower. So I spent that Sunday morning getting dressed up in my finest, trying to tame the beast that is my hair and wearing my fancy deodorant, and pulled into church right on time. A miracle, right? Except I was supposed to teach Sunday School that morning, meaning that I needed to be there early… so I was STILL late. Dang it. My plans were being foiled. But I still had time to casually stop by the Sunday School classroom and act totally surprised to find Daniel there, introduce myself, and be on my merry way.
I was walking very quickly – okay, I was running. Sorry, church folk – through the atrium to get to the Sunday School classroom when who did appear in my path but… Daniel. Ooh, cray-ap. I was still running when we locked eyes. And then whatever shred of coolness I had left me. I could feel my hair getting frizzy from the heat. I was panting from the sprint into the church. I was running out of time: I just had to go for it. I proceeded to take a deep breath and say/yell, “Hi-my-name-is-Kristen-my-parents-teach-our-Sunday-School-class-I-wanted-to-say-hi-but-I’m-running-late-I-have-to-go-bye,” as fast as humanly possible, and then turned around and ran up the stairs. Smooth.
But miraculously (and I do mean miraculously, because if I’m awkward alone, you should see our powers combined), we managed to actually talk for real, this time at a normal pace and with no hair-splosions, and you know the rest of that story. (We got married and are living happily ever after, in case you don’t know.) I’m super-duper glad I met Daniel, and that he didn’t call the crazy police after I shouted at him in a hallway. He is the love of my life and I’d marry him again any time, anywhere!
As long as he keeps saying “flegg,” that is.
|Our first picture!!!|