Have I ever told you about the many disaster dates my husband & I have experienced together? They have all been oh, so lovely. Stay tuned each week as I relive one disaster after another. The good news is, our first date wasn't as disastrous as our later dates.
Our First First "Date"
Believe it or not, folks... our first date was when I was seventeen. I say this because it makes the next part even more ridiculous.
My friends had planned this date night "dare night". The idea of it was to split into small groups of three to four couples. Each group was given a list of dares, each worth a different amount of points depending how difficult it was.
I mentioned this date to my husband. "That sounds SO fun!!!" he had said. My friends convinced me that was his way of saying "TAKE ME!" So, naturally I played it cool and asked if he would be up for tagging along with me, because I couldn't find anyone else worth going with. I made him feel real special.
Seeing as he had practically begged me to take him on this date, of course he said yes to my casual proposal. "Great! So... can you drive?"
"What?" Apparently he wasn't used to getting asked on a date, and then asked to drive on said date.
"I don't have my license."
Wait, what? NBD. I was just a seventeen year old with no license who was stupid enough to ask a boy on a date, and then tell him what time to pick me up. I might as well have had my mom drive us around.
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| pre-date selfie, unfortunately the only photo I have from that night |
The evening of our date, my husband showed up 45 minutes late. He also had told me right before that his brother was participating in a battle of the bands, and asked if we could go support him before we started the dares. So, 45 minutes after go-time, we finally embarked on our journey.
We made a pit-stop at battle of the bands, cheered and danced for brother-in-law's band, and left. We called our dare group to see where we could meet up with them.
One of the dares was to sneak into a pool of an apartment complex. Husband & I decided to take one for the team and go. The pool we snuck in to happened to be empty, so we jumped inside. While trying to show off my ninja skills, I unsuccessfully attempted to get out of the deep end without using the ladder. Don't even try to imagine what I was doing. I'm sure it was ridiculous.
Climbing out ended up being a lot more difficult than I thought, and I strained my left butt muscle in the process. I yelped like a wounded animal. The rest of the night I was in severe pain from my stunt.
The night ended with Husband driving me home. He was well aware that I was not a hugging person. As he pulled into my driveway, he said, "I know you're not a hugger, but I'm going to get a hug."
...So I gave him a side hug and walked/jogged awkwardly to my door.
Three years later we were married.
Side hugs for the win.
*EDIT
After telling my husband about the one and only picture I had from that night, he opened up an album of photos his brother had taken that night. Apparently this exists...
Ditto, Charity. Ditto.
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