Why my story of how I met your father kinda sucks

So, this is a late Saturday night post. Yes, I am in bed already with my tot and the hubby is on the sofa watching movies. I am sooooo freaking cool! Dont be jealous, you too one day can be as intriguingly exciting. I totally type like I talk, and I throw grammar shit out the window on this sucker. I try to spell correctly and not look like a complete dumbass, but we all have our moments.

My daughter loves to ask me a question that I always dread, due to the omissions necessary to make a nice story. She asks, "Mommy, can you tell me about the day you and daddy met?" URGH!! I always tell her a super short, lets move on to the next subject, version of the truth.

Here is how it would go if I told her the truth...I hate to think the rents might read this.

I was 19 years old and in my prime party time! Nothing else mattered to me at the time, and I used every excuse in the book to go out and party rather then study my sophomore year of college. The night began with me sliding into a size 4 black mini skirt from Express, a kinda low cut red shirt also from Express, and black high heeled shoes when the chunky heel overshadowed the stiletto. I went to a local club that I am too embarrassed to reveal, and was introduced to your father through a friend. We got drunk and became best friends for the night. He was the most hilarious and alive person, I had met in a loooong time. My ride, decided to spend the night with her boyfriend (future hubby's real BFF and best man) and I was stuck like chuck, being that it was already waaaaaay too late for me to sashay my way into my house. "You can come and sleep over too." she said, uh yeah, like I'm going to do that. Future hubby said, "you can come and stay at my house if you want and I can take you home in the morning." I honestly did hesitate for a while, and then figured it was better then the alternative, having my dad catch me swaying back and forth while trying to walk up the stairs to my room. EmbarrASSing and he would have been pissed. He might still get pissed if he reads this and sees what antics I was up to when I was suppose to be spending the night with a friend. I was technically spending the night with a friend, just a new friend. I agreed to stay with future hubby and went back to his house where both of his parents happened to be out of town...maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I mean, after all he could have been the Mexican Bundy for all I knew, but he was a nice funny guy and was not sleezy about me staying over or needing a place to stay. He gave me something to wear, and then we spent the rest of the evening watching Grease and finding out that we were born on the exact same day down to the year! I asked him when his birthday was (not sure why) and he said "December 8th" and I said "thats my birthday!" He then said a phrase that would later live in infamy "shut the f_ck up! For real?!" haha!! We then took out our id's to verify the date. Yup, the exact same. Who knew that we would still be celebrating together almost 10 years later. All together now "Awwwwwww!!"

We finally knocked out, on the same bed, but no hanky panky. In the morning I had to get dressed in the outfit I wore to the club, and wouldn't you know it, the parents that were suppose to be out of town, were outside with friends under the carport hanging out. I secretly dreaded having to walk out dressed the way I was, so obviously there from the night before. I knew what they were going to think, and I hated it. Talk about the "walk of shame." I gave an embarrassed "hola" and then jumped in the car to head home. Future hubby dropped me off at home, and I jumped into bed and slept until 1 or 2pm. Those were the freaking days! Anyway, we went out of course after that, and the rest is history.

The story I tell Monkey is that we met at a party through a mutual friend. Period.

Did I really just share that?