On this day 15 years ago, I accidentally showed up at my husband’s birthday party. Weird, I know. How do you accidentally go to someone’s birthday party? Well, I had just moved in with my aunt and didn’t have a key to her apartment. When she dropped me off at the football game my junior year, the agreement was to let my friend Amy drive me home.
Amy tried. She did. But in Spokane, October is a very chilly month. When I couldn’t get in the apartment, she took me with her to a birthday party I hadn’t been invited to. It turns out at least 30 of the other kids that showed hadn’t been invited, either.
I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of the movie Worm Eaters. It’s the worst B, or Z, rated film you’ll ever come across with women whose busts are bigger than their IQ jogging down the road, seeing a worm filled hot dog laying on the side walk, picking it up and eating it while they don’t notice worms wiggling from their mouths. Totally disgusting. That year Craig’s mom had decided to give him a themed birthday party, making spaghetti (the gummy worms in it melted) and a birthday cake with gummy worms in the middle. (The gummy worms worked here. When you cut a slice and pulled it away, a still glued together worm slid from the rest of the cake. It grossed even her out and she’d made it.)
One of the guys there loved the movie and sat, his long legs stretched out over half the floor, shoveling spoonful after spoonful of spaghetti into his mouth as he stared in horrified fascination at the movie.
To admit how totally shallow I was, the first thing I did after arriving was count the candles on his cake, 17, and hope sincerely that there wasn’t “one to grow on”. There wasn’t. He is legitimately 3 months older than I am. I couldn’t stand the thought of dating someone younger than me and boy did I want a boyfriend.
I wanted someone to hug me. Someone to hold me. Someone who was there for me. And someone I could love and care for. I needed this in the worst way, prayed for it with all my strength, and apparently God agreed. He sent me Craig.
I realize making you go to school on your birthday doesn’t make you feel very loved, baby, but I’ve never seen you work so hard on a project and you deserve the best grade on it. Happy Birthday, honey.