Friday the 13th is coming. It happens to be lucky for me. Twenty-two years ago on Friday the 13th I tore a piece of paper out of my notebook with my phone number on it and handed it to a hot red head. Scott called me on Monday and we went snow skiing for our very first date on February 19, 1987.
I am the luckiest woman ever because at age 18 no one has any sense in their heads, especially not enough sense to pick the one you will spend the rest of your life with. I know it was luck that I picked such a good match.
The thing that works for us is that Scott is quiet. I am not. Scott is patient. I am not. I like to cook. He does not. I hate to drive. He loves to drive. We both love to hike, bike, drink good beverages, eat at nice restaurants, and spend time together. We actually enjoy each others company (except for when he is twittering–my word for it is ‘twitterpated’).
Besides these practical elements, I am lucky to have married a man that loves me so much and tells me everyday how beautiful I am. He tells me this as if he is seeing me for the very first time. I am lucky because he loves my daughters and cherishes them in ways that would fill up pages to tell you.
I really don’t believe in luck. I was lead to this boy 22 years ago and I will forever be grateful.
You are too sweet! I’m the one who is “lucky”!!! Love you!