This person right here. This is my husband CPM. He has decided to join the blogosphere. God save us all.
For the past fourteen years I have been on the receiving end of many of his witticisms. He loves to make people laugh, often at my expense. It's part of his charm. I have often been told by people close to me that I am far too serious, that I don't smile or laugh enough. This is the absolute truth. You know something is funny if you HEAR me laughing. My typical laugh looks a lot like my typical scowl. I fear that I will end up looking like my Gram as I age: her lips were always pursed into the meanest face, and yet, she was (mostly) the sweetest lady (with a taste for candy that I sadly did not inherit...I could always count on her to try and offer me a lollipop that she had stashed in her purse, gotten from the bank teller.)
CPM and I met in College. While we had both attended the same high school, he graduated a year ahead of me, and with six thousand students in the school, our paths just never crossed. Thus, I had no idea who he was when I got to College...I was actually dating someone else when we met. On the day of our first meeting, in the dormitory dining hall, he sat at a table with a tray loaded with six different bowls of cereal.
Understand this: he was a commuter student, free loading with a mutual dorm friend. The unlimited cereal section of the dining hall was CPM's favorite spot. He was, and still is, a fan of the cereal. I approached the table where CPM sat, since I knew some other folks sitting with him, current boyfriend in tow, we sat, and I proceeded to have the best time. CPM cracked joke after joke, poking fun at my then boyfriend, making me laugh so hard that my cheeks were hurting. I should have known then that we would end up married, but it took a little time, a drama filled break up with the other guy, some miscellaneous group hang outs, and finally, a date to a gay dance club to cement the deal. If I ever run into the gay guy who cajoled CPM into kissing me (to prove his hetero-ness) while we waited in line to get our jackets from the coat check, I should hug him. Or punch him. Depending on my mood.
On his most recent blog entry, CPM writes of an incident that took place a few weeks back on our homestead. I am holding off on addressing said incident and its fallout for a bit longer. Due to my superstitious nature, I feel compelled to reserve discussion until certain scheduled events resulting from said incident have actually occurred. But once those events have come to fruition, I will let loose with all that I have been holding in reserve.