Friday, August 28, 2009

I recommend the bootie shake



If you want to marry me, here's what you'll have to do:
You must learn how to make a perfect chicken dumpling stew.
And you must sew my holey socks.
And soothe my troubled mind.
And develop the knack for scratching my back.
And keep my shoes spotlessly shined.
And while I rest you must rake up the leaves.
And when it is hailing and snowing
You must shovel the walks & and be still when I talk.
And-Hey-Where are you going?

"My Rules"
by Shel Silverstein


Some eight years ago, I went to a graduation party with Mr. Hall. I had graduated with my bachelor's degree in nursing. Mr. Hall had moved up to my tiny college town, all to support my dreams. All to support me.

He had moved in about halfway through my four year program. The day before I graduated, he asked me to marry him.

The graduation party was small but mighty. There was a cluster of us nursing students, all spent. Nursing school was, by far, the hardest thing I have every been through, in my entire life. It broke a few of us. I had at least one meltdown per semester. It was usually in the form of an ugly snot bubble cry, always in front of professor. Hyperventilating, snot bubble cry. Like clock work, at the end of each semester.

I didn't realize it at the time, but Mr. Hall was there for me in so many ways. He payed for the apartment, he cooked, helped fix my car and cleaned the cat box. He volunteered to be my first patient. I practiced taking his blood pressure, listening to his lungs, checking his reflexes, and palpating his abdomen. He helped me choose an excellent stethoscope.

And that night, when we were done with school, we went to the graduation party. I was so happy. We were engaged for one day. I found myself looking at the ring every 20 minutes. It was almost involuntary. One time, I walked into a wall while looking at my ring. Plain just smacked right into a wall. All because I was gazing at my left hand.



I remember the music pumping. Us laughing. And then he stood up and started to dance. And I followed. We did the bootie shake. Bumping butts and being silly. I was laughing so hard. I remember thinking, I can't believe this is going to be my husband!

I still can't believe my luck. :)

5 Left a message at the beep:

Heff said...

Well, congrats for you and glad you're happy, but I gotta say, that damn ring sure does mean alot to women, and I DON'T mean in the symbolic way.

"It's like a stylish pair of shoes !!" lol !

Joanna Jenkins said...

What a joyful story. I could tell you were happy and smiling while you wrote it just like you were the day you got engaged (minute the smacking into the wall part). And any guy who cleans the cat box is a total keeper.

Cheers to happiness and great husbands!!!

xo

Mrs. Holly Hall said...

Heff: no, no no no, the ring is NOT LIKE A PAIR of shoes. It is more like the oasis in the desert. Only real.

JJ: So glad you followed me so I can follow you and we can get all excited about stuff like great husbands! WOO HOO!! :)

James said...

I am such a bad, bad husband. No way will I clean out the stinky cat box. I won't even feed the horror.

Wil said...

I am felling all mushy now, hold me Heff!

Wil Harrison.com

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