I once read an article about relationships that said, "start it out the way you expect it to continue". Basically, the whole gist was that if you started out trying to impress the new guy with foot massages, coffee in bed, and laundry service (trying to show off what great wifey material you'd be), you'd be stuck doing it for years.
Hubby and I had a 3-month courtship before we stepped it up a notch. He was a long-time bachelor, and I was a newly single mother of two. He was very correct and somewhat prim in his wooing of me---a true gentleman. We met when I had been contracted to provide an entertainment service for the restaurant/bar he co-owned.
We had a laugh over the fact that we both were raised on the east coast, about a half-hour from each other. How weird was that we'd meet up here? Reminisced about how we both spent our summers in the same place (Ocean City), and watched Captain Chesapeake and Ultra Man as kids. I thought he was adorable.
He called my answering service and left a message saying it was a "social call". I tried to call him back for two hours and kept getting a busy signal. He was afraid I wouldn't call him back right away, so he took his phone off the hook and went out to wash his car. LOL
On our first date, he invited me to drop by his restaurant after work. He had closed the establishment to the public and treated me to an incredible candlelight dinner and dancing for two. The next day I baked a dozen long-stem cookies and had them delivered to thank him for his hospitality, which he thought was utterly charming.
We went out off and on for the next few months when our schedules permitted. He wanted to take my guys with us, but I demurred. I didn't want my guys to meet or get attached to someone I wasn't in a serious relationship with.
Finally he invited me to his little house in the mountains for a weekend (he rented a condo with a roommate in town across from the restaurant during the week). Since it was going to be our uh "first time" together, I was spritzed and poofed and shaved and had picked out my sexiest lingerie.
Man plans. God laughs. Sometime during the week while he wasn't home, his power went out. It's amazing that his pipes didn't freeze. Not only was the place colder than a witch's---you know---but the heater in his waterbed was out too. He was able to get the furnace started, but the bed was like an ice cube.
Instead of a sexy encounter in my racy undies, I ended up bundled up in a pair of his sweats. We snuggled up together in several sets of comforters to keep warm. He was embarrassed and kept apologizing. Not the romantic evening he had planned. It was a little awkward.
Then to top it off, right after I dozed off, I farted. I can't control it when I'm sleeping. It wasn't some ladylike fluff either, but an event that shook the foundations of his house.
I was thinking, "I'm never going to see this dear man again. He's going to drop me off and run screaming for the hills."
I blurted out, "What in God's name did YOU eat for lunch?" He snorted and we laughed ourselves silly. Awkwardness over.
Since then, if I inadvertently have an attack of the barking spiders, I blame him, the boys, the dogs and my girlfriend from Alabama. Even when she's still in Alabama.
So in the wee hours, some 18 years after our first night together, I rolled over and woke myself up from the equivalent of a sonic boom emitting from my heinie.
"Oh My God", I muttered.
Hubby, that sweet, well-trained spouse of mine, stopped snoring long enough to respond.
"Excuse Me," he said in his sleep.
I laughed so hard I woke him AND the dogs up. Not so sure about my friend in Alabama though.
Train 'em early! LOL