Hiya friends, welcome back. You’re probably wondering what the hell I could be posting about judging by the title. You wouldn’t think that those three unrelated things could somehow create a pretty epic love story huh? Well, they did.
Hobbs and I are celebrating TEN WHOLE YEARS! I figured I’d make a big shout out post for the man that puts up with all this crazy. He really deserves a medal.
I met Hobbs when I was 23 and had gotten a new job working with my cousin (Ohhh, yeah I don’t think I’ve ever said how old I am, welp now ya know). We were both working in the same place and I had just gotten out of a really shitty relationship. It’s pretty safe to say I wasn’t actively looking for anything. I can remember my first thought about him was “holy adorable.” He had tattoos and a beard and I’ll never admit it to him but I might have been a little smitten.
It was right around Valentine’s Day when I think either one of us really thought that maybe something could happen between us. But in true Hobbs fashion, he took his sweet ass time trying to get your girls number, so he needed a little push. (Funny story here, and I LOVE starting it the same way) Whenever you’re with someone, people you meet will inevitably ask “How did you two get together?” and I get to say my favorite thing ever, “Spotted Dick.”
That’s right people, a can of Heinz Spotted Dick started this love story for the ages (that is not a sentence you get to write every day). Hobbs had taken a picture and was in the process of cracking up with the guys over it when I overheard the laughter. Being the calm, cool and collected woman of the world I am, I asked him to send me the photo (Tiff calls this the one time a dick pic was ever requested, she’s not wrong). His response was less suave, “uhhhhh, I can’t if you don’t give me your number.” *cue girlish giggle* “Oh, yeah, well, here ya go.”
Five seconds later, I received this incredibly original text: “Hi!” And the rest, as they say, is history. Spotted Dick brought me the man of my dreams. (Again, not every day that someone can say that.) We were inseparable after that.
Two years later, on March 23 – chosen so he’d never forget the date – I’m sitting on the couch at my parents house and this goober pulls out a stuffed grey cat from Build-a-Bear dressed in a tux. I was so busy fawning over the cutest stuffed animal I’d ever seen, I completely missed the ring box in his hand. Hobbs, being a man of few words, asked me to marry him in a very non-fanfare way, with a simple “Will you?” Obviously, I said yes (otherwise this would be a very different post) and then proceeded to call everyone I knew.
A year later, in August of 2011, I got to marry the boy who can always make me laugh even when I’m planning my episode of Snapped.
Now the best part of our wedding was that it was all us. There was no big fancy dress or suave tux, there were shorts and sneakers. I mean, I wore a dress but it wasn’t one of those Cinderella style ones, and it paired nicely with my all white Air Force Ones. I’ll let you guys in on a little secret, we technically got married in the parking lot of our apartment building about an hour before the ceremony everyone else saw. It was the two of us, my best friend and his, and another friend who we had ordained to perform the ceremony anyway. “Do you?” “We Do.” “It’s done.” It was fucking legal and I have the paperwork to prove it. I don’t even know if our families know this part….(sorry Mom).
An hour and a half later we were repeating the vows in this park near our apartment in front of our parents and a few select friends. The reception that followed was pretty much perfect. The table names were characters from our favorites shows and movies. The favors were keychain music notes. The flowers were simple, three gladiolus on each table as a silent nod to my uncle who passed away two months before. We ate hamburgers and hotdogs, drank way too much with our family and friends, and danced to a long ass song. All I really remember is lots of laughing and camera flashes. It was simple and the best day of my life (I didn’t even mind the dress).
The was almost seven years ago and not much has changed. We still laugh at inappropriate times, still argue over dishes and laundry, and still love each other stupid. Leading up the wedding I got a lot of unsolicited advice on how to sustain a marriage, some of it good and useful, while some of it just sucked. The one thing no one ever told me was that there would come a time when you couldn’t see life without the other person. My life wouldn’t be nearly as fun without him, nor would it be nearly as messy.
Hobbs is a good guy, and I’m a lucky girl because I get to call him mine. He’s made life….interesting. I was already a fully formed person by the time he came around, but there was definitely something missing. I found that something in the form of a tattooed and bearded cyborg (he’s a diabetic…he has a pump…therefore he’s a cyborg, ask anyone).
So this is my very public adoration post. I love him with every fiber of my very anxious being. Here’s to the past ten years of laughter and fun with some annoying habits and arguments over the dishes thrown in, two furry children and a whole slew of imaginary ones, three shitty ass apartments, and a new house. You make me happy, and a better person, thanks for loving me even when I’m crazy. (Side Note: As I’m writing this he just walked in from work with two bottles of alcohol-free wine, pretty much his version of this post, don’t tell me this man doesn’t know the way to my heart!) And here’s to ten more, Hobbs! Until next time…
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