Today is our 11th wedding anniversary.
For our 10th anniversary, I wrote about my amazing husband.
This year, I’ll tell you how we met because it’s a pretty funny. And. Very. Jewish.
In 2001, I was a reporter at a newspaper outside of Washington, D.C., living the single life in the big city. I was then recruited by the newspaper in Springfield, Illinois.
“Where the heck is that?” asked my mother. See, we are East Coast Jews. We landed at Ellis Island and never went past the I-95 corridor.
My Jewish mother freaked out and called our rabbi to see if he knew anyone in Springfield. (This is called Jewish geography. Someone always knows someone somewhere.)
It turned out that our rabbi DID know someone! He had gone to rabbinical school with a rabbi who led a congregation in Springfield.
I called that rabbi after I arrived in Springfield, and he invited me to Chanukah party. There, I met my future mother-in-law. (I did not know that, then. In fact, I could not remember who she was when she called a few weeks later to invite me for dinner.)
This dinner was conveniently scheduled when her son “happened” to be home from law school for winter break. I did not know it was a fix up. He did. Before I arrived, his younger sister teased him, “Your future wife is coming over.”
He was not expecting much because his mother had described me as “nice.”
The doorbell rang, and his family forced him to answer.
When he tells the story, this is the point where he jokes he opened the door and thought I was a Girl Scout selling cookies because I am very petite. Ha ha ha. Not funny. (His family is very tall — he is 6’2″ — and he had dreams of meeting another 6 footer to make basketball playing babies.)
During dinner, he fell madly and deeply in love with me. (I’m telling the story! Ha!) And he says he planned to wait a respectable 48 hours to send me an email — no text back then — so he would not seem “too interested.”
Yes, I thought he was cute and funny and tall! (I had no idea Jewish boys came in this size model.) But I was more interested in using him for a free place to stay in Chicago, where he was in law school. I had never been to Chicago. Moving from D.C. to Springfield was a culture shock, and I needed a big-city fix.
I’ve never been one to play hard-to-get. So I beat him to it and sent an email the next day, listing some dates I could visit.
Luckily, he’s not afraid of smart, funny, forward goddesses. And he was willing to compromise on his height requirement. (Our son’s first and middle names are in honor of two basketball players, so he still has hopes.)
I have to say it’s pretty easy and fun being married to him. He, however, would not say the same. I am an only child, and it’s a little tricky to negotiate with someone used to getting her way. But he’s mastered it. (And I am hilarious, so that makes it easier.)
Here’s to 14 years after “the dinner” and 11 years married. Let’s celebrate!