Today is my parents 47th wedding anniversary. That’s right. For forty seven years they have been roommates, confidants, companions, shopping buddies, travel partners, support-systems, and teammates. In short, they are the best kind of best friends.
They raised five children, watched eight grandchildren grow from infants to self-sufficient young adults and one awesome little toddler, and they love to visit with and hear stories about their grandchildren. They are the centerpiece of every family gathering. All of the joy and generosity they put into loving all of us has multiplied exponentially, trickling down to our youngest family member, who often says:
“We FaceTime Nanny and Poppy now!”
As a unit, they have an awesome power. I don’t think I know anyone who doesn’t smile at the sound of their names or who doesn’t think they are just the greatest. They are a fixture of most of my happiest memories, and they are often the source of some of the funniest stories I have to tell. They are aff…
I hope my title did not offend you, it's just that I'm simply trying to convey my reaction when I looked down at that sad looking little piece of plastic that I had recently peed on a cold and dismal January morning and saw two lines starting back at me.
"Holy shit balls"
There simply can't be two lines...there are never two lines...things that Janet pee on don't produce two lines, only one line. Janet's hostile uterus had rejected all previous attempts to be occupied so those two lines must be some kind of mistake.
I went about my day.
Next day...two lines a little darker.
Third day...two lines yet a little darker.
Funny universe. Very funny. You are such a cruel tease. This is what I was telling myself. I was preparing, perhaps even trying to protect myself from what I believed to be, the inevitable, heart wrenching disappoint I had gotten used to.
It's now Monday, January 6th and on my way to work, I stop in an buy a digital test. I clutched said tes…