The Replacements "Kiss Me On The Bus"

The last thing I said to my wife before leaving the house yesterday morning was, “If you have a chance, read my post blog today . . .”

The morning has been the usual level of brain-scrambling chaos, getting the kids dressed and fed and ready for the day, shoveling the heavy wet snow from the driveway, attempting to empty the dishwasher, wrangle the scattered dirty laundry, scoop up errant Legos, and get out of the house and off to work on time. Or at least, not late.

We’re a long way away from those carefree days when we first met, and first started dating. Life has moved fast in 7 years.

In 2004, we met.

In 2005, we got married.

In 2006, we bought a house.

In 2007, we had our first child.

And life has only accelerated from there.

So to honor our 7 years, and recall how it all started, I thought I’d write the story of how we met, leading up to our first kiss.

When I sat down to write, I titled the post “The Replacements ‘Kiss Me On The Bus.’”

I got about halfway through, and remembered, Hey, it wasn’t “Kiss Me On The Bus” that she sang to win my heart. It was “Waitress In The Sky.”

I guess, because I was thinking about our first kiss, and because time and chaos have fuzzed out some of the details, I’d gotten confused.

After the post was published, I wondered if she’d have the chance to read it. The day can be quite full with two little kids running around. Finding 10 minutes to read a blog post doesn’t always happen. In fact, I wondered if she even realized the date, and that it was the Anniversary of our meeting. We don’t usually celebrate it. We’re more likely to acknowledge our wedding Anniversary, which is in August.

I got home at 6:30, and everyone was on the verge.

The kids had had a fun, active day. An afternoon play-date turned into dinner at our house, as my wife prepared pasta for 5 kids ages 4 and under.

The guests had left, and our worn out, strung out kids were ready for a quick wind down, and bed. And my wife was ready to sit on the Lazyboy and watch American Idol.

Everyone was corralled into the kids’ room. Tabitha got the baby into pajamas, as I rolled a ball back and forth across the floor with my daughter.

Having a moment of toddler inspiration, she grabbed her Little People toy bus, and started knocking the ball to me, with it. I suggested that she put the ball in the bus, and roll the bus to me.

Tabitha started singing, “Kiss Me, On The Bus.”

“What made you sing that song?” I asked, a bemused smile on my face.

“Uh, because you were playing with the bus?” she responded, looking at me like I was weird for asking an obvious question. Clearly, she hadn't read the post yet, or realized the date.

We did our synchronized-swimming-parenting routine, trading the kids back and forth as teeth were brushed, bottles were warmed, pajamas buttoned up, toys cleared from the floor, books picked out, and babies tucked in.

It’s a beautiful thing, to parent together.

When they were finally asleep, we moved to the living room.

“Will you make me an egg and toast?” she asked.

There are many, many things that my wife does well. But she says I make a fried egg better than she does. It’s a small point of pride for me, and I love that I can serve her a perfect little breakfast for dinner on the Lazyboy.

“While I’m doing that, read my post.”

“Oh yeah! Okay.”

I made a perfect plate of food and brought it to the living room, just as she was finishing. I hoped that she was enjoying the read, and not feeling bad that she hadn’t remembered our Anniversary.

“That was awesome. It was beautiful. Thank you.”

We kissed.

“Is it really today?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“The 27th? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, isn’t it?”

“Well, our wedding Anniversary was on the 27th. August 27th. But we met on the 24th.”

“Uh, we did, didn’t we . . .”

Time and chaos have fuzzed out some of the details, I’d gotten confused.

That being said, be it the 24th or the 27th, "Kiss Me On The Bus" or "Waitress In The Sky," the heart was there.

Even if the brain is not.

The Replacements "Waitress In The Sky"

How I Met My Wife, Part 1:

"You definitely don't know that song. No way. You're B.S.ing me."

"I do. You want me to sing it?"

There was no way she knew that song. No way. Then again, it had been a pretty remarkable afternoon already.

Rewind 4 hours:

I was standing at the mvyradio T-shirt table. It was the safest place to be, as the crowd poured in to the mvyradio Big Chili Contest.

The station holds this event every year. Ostensibly, it is an event to taste different Chili recipes. But in reality, it's just a good excuse to get rip-roaring drunk on a Saturday morning/afternoon in the middle of winter.

People come from off-Island in droves, to blow off some steam, dance up a storm and maybe, if the mood strikes them, vote for their favorite chili.

I was standing at the mvyradio T-shirt table when the crowd parted and a small whirlwind of girls popped forth.

"I'm here to see my T-shirt."

As a side contest to the Best Chili categories, we also have a T-shirt design contest. Artists near and far would send us their interpretations of the event, and a few days beforehand, we'd get the winning design printed up on a handful of shirts.

Standing in front of me, wearing sunglasses in her hair (on a cold cloudy winter day), was this year's winning designer, a woman with the improbable name of Tabitha Agneta.

She and her friends chatted with me for a few minutes, and then disappeared into the crowd.

An hour or so later, I found myself on the far, far side of the venue, tasting some chili, when I bumped into her again.

We talked more, about family and hometowns and jobs. Nothing earth-shattering, but there was a spark. We parted again.

An hour or so later, there she was at the bar. This time we talked baseball. The Red Sox. Nomar (this was the winter before he was traded).

I disappeared one last time, to get on stage and to participate in the Chili Award ceremonies.

And that's really the last time I ever left her.

When I found her (after the Horses Ass-shaped Chili Trophies were handed out), we talked about music, and she mentioned Jeff Buckley, who's album "Grace" is practically like going to church for me.

She asked me about my favorite band, and I said that she'd probably never heard of them.

"I know The Replacements," she claimed. Which seemed like B.S.

The only people I knew who liked The Replacements were guys who'd grown from awkward teen boys, to now be awkward young men. Good looking girls never knew who The Replacements were.

"No you don't," I said. "Name one of their songs."

"'Waitress In The Sky.' Do you want me to sing it?"

Hell yeah I did.

She sang it. She knew it. And I know on paper that sounds like a pretty tenuous thread to hang a relationship on. But if you were there, you would have known, too.

We left the mvyradio Big Chili Contest together, and even though she physically left the Island at the end of the weekend, from that point on, we've always been together, forever---spiritually, emotionally, psychically.

Starting 7 years ago today.

Happy Anniversary, my lovely wife!