There's something about high school football games that make old memories spill over you like Gatorade over a winning coach. At least for me anyway. Friday night Tyler and I attended the annual clash between our hometowns. When we pulled up to the field, I was immediately swept back to the ninth grade. Everything looked the same. And when I stepped out of the car, I couldn't help but think of standing in that same spot exactly nine years earlier.
That spot- where I stood after a senior high football game, waiting on my crush to come out of the field house. My best friend was there with me, waiting on her crush as well. It was Homecoming, and we were both hoping for an invitation to the team's post-game dance.We were dressed to impress (as far as ninth graders are concerned) and spent no less than an hour on our hair, making sure each and every detail was perfect. We chatted with each other, giggled nervously and made small-talk with those around us, trying not to make it obvious that we were lingering around waiting.
Finally, the boys came out, and my hot, sweaty, football-playing crush walked toward me, as did my friend's. My palms sweated, and I giggled some more. The four of us chatted, trying to overcome any awkward silences, and I tucked my hair behind my ear one more time. Finally, after some hinting and beating around the bush, we were both invited to the Homecoming dance. And there in that high school cafeteria, beneath the disco lights and the Food Guide Pyramid, I got to dance with the guy of my dreams. I knew it was something I'd never forget.
Nine years later, I now share a bed...and a baby...with that same guy. And when the stresses of marriage, jobs, a mortgage and a baby seem to pull us in opposite directions, it's nice to remember the old times- when things were simple, we truly enjoyed and cherished every moment together, and we both thought the other was just plain "hot."
|2002- Our first prom, that same year. |