Thursday, July 30, 2009

C+C, A Love Story

I always get jealous when I hear magical stories of how people met and fell in love. Since Chad and I were good friends for a couple years before we even started dating, it's not like we had this whirlwind romance. I guess it can be better described as a slowly kindling fire. But I think there was a moment when I decided that no other man would be as perfect for me as Chad.

This story involves a pair of cowboy boots.

Get the tissues ready folks. And no, not because you'll cry. But because you're going to laugh - HARD.

The date was September 23, 2006. We had been dating about a year. Chad and I had season tickets for NC State football. We both love sports, and going to a NC State football game is always a good time - GO PACK.

During this time I was living in a cute house right outside of Five Points in downtown Raleigh with my friends Kel and Eliza. The weather this day was not too hot and not too chilly outside, so I chose a cute outfit of a red skirt and white polo button down. I didn't want to wear flip-flops, and I'm not one of those wacko girls that wear high heels to a football game. They deserve to fall down a flight of steps. So I decide to borrow Eliza's cowboy boots. It would look cute, and would be perfect for the whether.

There were several factors that I did not consider in this decision. 1) Eliza is a shoe sizer bigger than me. 2) I've never worn her boots before. 3) We have to walk about 2 miles from our parking spot to the stadium. 3) This is the kicker (I'm an idiot I know): I didn't have any thick socks clean that day so I wore ankle socks.

You see where this is going don't you. You all are so smart.

So we start off tailgating at out at our normal spot with our good friends David and Jamie. We grilled kabobs from Whole Foods - I remember it like it was yesterday. Then we make the walk to the stadium to tailgate with some other friends. About 3/4 mile into it, my heels are starting to feel a little sore. One mile, the feet are hurting pretty bad. One and a half miles - I'm about to die, walking with a limp. Two miles - I've had it. We finally arrived at our destination. My heels felt like they were absolutely raw from the boots rubbing on them as we hiked across the daggum state (at least it felt like). I decided at that moment that I MUST pull off my boots. I would walk barefoot through gravel at that point - I didn't care. I was literally in tears. The boots HAD to come off.

So I take my boots off. And when I do, I see the back of my heels are absolutely horribly, disgustingly RAW (graphic I know, it has to be said though in order for you to understand what happened next). So after this traumatizing sight, I do what I always do (and if you know me, you know what's coming): I throw up. Luckily one of the ladies we went to visit had a trash bag... but still, I threw up. People around probably thought I had too much to drink. Truth is I didn't have a lick of alcohol in me. It was the combination of the heat, my sore feet, and the look of them. It was all I could take. So there I was, tears in my eyes, boots in my hands. And the game hadn't even started yet.

That's when my darling, darling one-day husband - without a second thought - said, "I'm walking to get the car. I'll come and pick you up and we're going home." And you know at the time he was furious, but it didn't show and he didn't say a word. He must have ran to our car - because he was back within 5 minutes driving me through the rows of drunk college students heading into the stadium to take me home.

Things were quiet for most of the ride back. I was sure that he was going to give it to me for making such a poor attire choice. But he didn't. He didn't say a single word until we were about 5 minutes from home. He swung into the Kroger parking lot and ran inside, still in silence. For all I knew - he was calling for a ride and getting the heck out of dodge. A few minutes later, he's walking back to the car - with a bag of bandages for my feet and a tub of sherbet to soothe my soul. I know he understood that I felt horrible about making him miss the game. There was no need to make any snippy comments - he'd save those for payback later. ;)

So we went home, snuggled on my bed, watched the game on TV. Most people will remember this night as the best homegame NC State had that entire season. NC State came from behind to beat Boston College at the last second. The crowd went absolutely crazy at the stadium. But I'll remember it as the night I knew without a doubt that Chad was the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

The person that will get me Band-Aids and sherbet after I throw up over a pair of boots.

We're a match made in heaven.

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