My epic Rom-Com

  I recently read a post by Lisa Jo Baker that was all about her love story.  Which she said was actually quite boring in comparison to the movies.  In the movies love stories are epic.  They are heart breaking and heart stopping.  The common theme of her "boring love story" was that, her husband, has "never run through an airport for me".  It got me thinking.  The Hubbs has never run through an airport for me either.   But does it mean we have a boring love story?   Does it mean our love story isn't epic?    I can't tell you how many times I complained that the Hubbs is unromantic.  He isn't one for mushy displays of affection.  He doesn't even like to hold hands.  He picks out really funny Hallmark cards, but has he ever left love notes around the house?  Rarely.  He can be spontaneous, he can be sweet, but would I ever classify our marriage as romantic?  Probably not.  But do I really need an epic love story like The Notebook?  Do I need tear jerking romance, or do I need Rom-Com romance?
I've decided, I need Rom-Com romance.  

Yes, that's him, flipping me off while he flies a kite for our children.

  Maybe he has never ran through an airport, but he gets my movie references.  Sunday at Costco, I wanted a watermelon.  The Hubbs was wrangling the children and pushing the cart, so I went over and picked up a huge watermelon myself.  It was heavy, and so as I walked back to the cart I said, "I carried a watermelon".  To which he replied, "Don't hurt yourself baby".  Now many of you may or may not understand this exchange.  If you do, then you know he wouldn't put me in a corner.  If you don't, then I know it's a little bit of romance between me and the Hubbs, that we can converse in movie quotes when the mood strikes us.   He may have never waited for me outside a church with his red convertible (Sixteen Candles), but he did once tell me he wanted to be my "Mr. Big".  This was as I was wearing designer shoes I had spent an entire paycheck on, and also while I was drinking a Cosmo.  This was during my Carrie Bradshaw phase, as you can tell.  To say I almost fell off my bar stool is an understatement.  Because we had broken up for the third time.  Because we had fought viciously and said somethings that we couldn't take back.  Because I knew, in my heart he was the one, it wasn't over for me, not by a long shot.   I took him up on that offer.

Last year we won a "serious dance" contest.
You couldn't crack a smile or you were out.
This is what marriage can do for you.

  The Hubbs didn't propose at the beach.  He didn't hide my ring in dessert.  He didn't send me on a scavenger hunt, have a professional photographer waiting in the wings, nor did he do it at a place that would remind me of our love.  He DID try and get me to go out of town, and I refused.  I was tired and whiny after working all week.  So he did what he needed to and proposed, well after midnight on a Saturday, as I walked out of the bathroom.  Toilet still flushing in the background, he was on one knee, ring box open.  And while I still laugh to this day, at our most unromantic proposal, it's still one of the best stories we have.  Plus it's totally poetic if you remember that the Hubbs sells toilets for a living.
The Hubbs would never write me every day for a year (The Notebook).  The man rarely writes a grocery list.  I get cards on my birthday and Mother's Day that are funny and perfectly from him, but he normally just signs them, but once, on my college graduation, he wrote me a real love note.  In my graduation card, he wrote the following (totally paraphrasing): being with you has been a roller coaster ride, and I hate roller coasters, but here I am, enjoying the ride.  He also bought me a diamond pendant, which he really couldn't afford at the time.  I held on to both so tightly, and never forgot his words.  Even when we broke up 4 months later, even when got back together and broke up again.  Even when years later, and 2 babies, and the mess of life took us to the brink and back, I never forgot those words.  Because I hate roller coasters too, but I'm still not willing to get off this ride.   The Hubbs never stood outside my bedroom window with a boom box playing In Your Eyes (which was a real life fantasy I had for a time).  He has been known to post 80s rocker love anthems to my Facbook wall in a boozy haze at 2 am.  He will always play "my jam" on the iPad, which is Midnight Train to Georgia.  The fact that he knows that makes me swoon.  He took me to a Blink 182 concert years ago, because he knew they were my absolute favorite, even though deep down he hates them with a passion.  He has even been known to sing along to Party in The USA and Call me Maybe with my girls, which if you are wondering, sets my heart afire.    

Who needs love letters when you have this over text.

  The Hubbs doesn't hold my hand, but he does take out the trash and clean the litter box.  He may not leave me love notes on the bathroom mirror, but he does text me pictures of hilarious shiz on the Chive.  He my not have read a single Harry Potter book, but he can quote the Prisoner of Azkaban like no body's business.  And not just the main character parts, but a particularly long scene featuring Sirius Black and Professor Lupin.  The Hubbs may hate posing for selfies, hate Instagram as a whole, and may never understand the importance of a WIW post, but he has read and commented on this blog a time or two.    I don't need the Hubbs to run through an airport.  I don't need him to hold a boom box over his head.  I don't even need him to write me a love letter every day for a year.  What I need is for him to love me anyway.  The house is a disaster, there is never dinner on the table, I practically keep Target in the black, and I hardly ever vacuum the house.  Some days I don't shower, I rarely wear make up, and I'm getting laugh lines and crows feet to go with my already graying hair.  My kids eat junk, they drink soda, and they are spoiled rotten.  And he does exactly what I need him too, he loves me anyway, he loves me despite all of these things, he loves me because of all of these things.  
 

  After reading Lisa Jo's post, and writing this one, I know for a fact that my love story is epic.  It's not the stuff Nicholas Sparks would write about, but it is the stuff Mindy Kaling or Tina Fey would write about.  It's romantic in the way knowing all the best lines in Mallrats is romantic.  It's an epic love story in the only way we know how to write it... With humor, laughter, and sarcasm.   
  Our story is the story of two people, who love each other despite the fact that one leaves all her crap on the kitchen counter (me),  and the other always turns off the AC in my car whenever he drives it (him).  My love story began on a boozy night in late July of 1999.  At a housewarming party I didn't want to go to, a party I wore a baseball cap and jeans, a party where I was convinced I would graduate college without finding Mr. Right.     It's the story of two people who couldn't stand each other when they met.     All the makings for an epic Rom-Com.   Think your love story is boring? Please read this post by Lisa Jo Baker. It will change your life and your marriage!