Today is Mr. Honey's birthday, and I cannot think of a better bloggy way to celebrate it than to tell the story of how we met.
I was twenty-one and living in San Francisco, employed as a live-in nanny. It was just after Christmas. A friend invited me and another friend to his employer's Christmas party, and I met Mr. Honey for the first time.
Mr. Honey wrote a poem about it. I love that man.
I was, as I suppose I frequently am, oblivious to what was going on around me, and Mr. Honey dropped many, many hints to try and get my phone number. Finally he said, "Well, I work with Steve, so if you ever want to call, you can reach me there."
Light dawned on Marble Head, lol.
I did not call guys, so I gave him *my* phone number.
He called three days later, which was the day before New Year's Eve, and asked me out for New Year's. I told him I was busy. (I didn't want him to think I was desperate.)
He said good-bye and hung up really fast.
I had to break my rule about not calling guys and call my friend Steve at work to get Mr. Honey's phone number and call him back! I did have plans, but it was for a party with friends, and wouldn't he like to come too?
He said yes, he would, and, in fact, that party with friends was the party to which he was inviting me.
He was awfully cute, even under all that long, curly hair, and was a gentleman who held open doors and walked on the street-side.
A day or two later he invited me to go to Disney's Beauty and the Beast at the movie theater (first-run). When Belle is attacked by wolves and Beast saves her but is dreadfully wounded, and that tiny little ingenue lifts that great hulking beast onto the horse to take him home, Mr. Honey and I turned to each other and said, "No way she could do that!" And we knew we were meant for each other.
We were married eight months later.