If you were here for a visit yesterday, you know I am doing some reminiscing as I roll into a milestone birthday this weekend.
As I thought about what to share and how to share it, I landed on four days of decade stories to finish our week.
For my 30th birthday, Russ wanted to take me out to dinner. We would have had Rachel and an almost three month old Sarah at that time. We lived in our first real purchased home out south of town.
As I was getting ready to go out with freshly washed and dried hair, my curling iron broke.
If you know me, you know that whether it be pride, vanity or just compassion for any one who has to look upon me in public, my hair is a thing of great importance to me.
I was not blessed with thick hair and just washing and going is not an option unless I crave looking like a three year old child with a bad haircut.
There was no Walmart at that time. My hair was sticking out in all possible sad angles of limp nothingness and I told Russ we would have to rain check dinner until I could replace my styling tool.
He insisted I looked fine.
I questioned his sanity.
I begged him to skip the dinner plan and he begged me to just pin it up where I could.
I questioned his mercy and our marriage vows.
This went on for some time until it became evident he was not relenting.
With tears, I tried to use barrettes and do what I could.
In loving words he told me I looked fine and we loaded up for the restaurant.
As we drove into town, he passed all the possible places where we could be headed for dinner reservations and we began winding our way through a residential area.
I was puzzling out where we could possibly be heading and then said out loud the only place I knew we could get dinner in this area was at a friend’s house who we played in a Pinocle group with.
My dear husband’s face blanched ever so slightly.
The realization settled deeply down as he pulled into their culdesac and I saw the familiar cars of our card group all lining the curbs.
I was mortified as I had held on to the hope we would not see anyone we knew that evening, but I was welcomed with open arms, much laughter and as they took Sarah and Rachel into their care, our hostess led me back to her bathroom and plugged in her curling iron for me.
If they were visually scarred by my entry, they never let on. We had a great evening and my pride only suffered a minor scarring. And thus I entered into my 30’s…with friends and family to celebrate with.
Truly blessed, I am. Truly blessed <3