Good Omens

When Jeremiah and I first started dating it seemed that everywhere we went we heard some version of Knock on Wood. It went on for a year or so, beginning in Richmond and still happening when we both lived in NYC. We figured that, even though the song didn't mean much to either one of us, its habit of following us around must make it "our song". There are some truly horrible renditions of our song out there. I like Michael McDonald's from the early 90s NYC concert in the park, The New York Rock n' Soul Review, but that's neither here nor there.

Today is our 8th wedding anniversary. We celebrated it on Saturday (pictures of what the kids did that night forthcoming) but this is the real deal. I got up, kissed my sweetie farewell and headed to the gym at 5:30. I can tell when my workout is over because I begin to actively fantasize about coffee. When I entered the coffee shop, just as the owner was scurrying around opening the joint, a particularly awful disco version of Knock On Wood came on the radio. Eight years of marriage and 13 of dating and I still can't escape that tune. When she handed me my latte I noticed the little doodle in the foam (everyone's into putting little designs in the foam these days) was a heart.

I called Jeremiah when I got in the car - "guess what was just playing when I went into the coffee shop?!?" He got it right. He always gets it right. I love that guy because he gets me. I think that's saying a lot because I am often misunderstood. I think it's my wry humor and sarcasm (bordering on the offensive and/or rude). But Jeremiah's just as ridiculous. The other day I sent him a link to a little seat/storage bin I thought would be just right for our new bathroom (I find myself sitting on the floor to put lotion on or clip my toenails, it's uncomfortable) and asked what he thought of it. "It makes me want to puke" he responded. I declared that it was perfect and he said "it looks like it would hold a lot of puke" and my heart swelled. Some men would've just said "I really don't care" but not mine. So these 8 years have sailed past and I expect they will continue in that strain. Until, as I am always promising, I kill him in his sleep. Happy anniversary, my true love!