Today is Anson’s birthday. He’s finally back from his 2-week vacation work marathon in San Fransisco. So, in all he only missed our anniversary, Roan’s graduation ceremony, Father’s Day and a whole mess of slumber parties wherein Roan took delight in telling Anson “I’m sleeping in your spot!” And, of course, the less cute but very age-appropriate and tirelessly funny (to everyone except maybe Anson) “I just tooted in your spot!” I know, where is a mother to teach this kid some manners? Sometimes you just cannot fight genetics though. I maintain that this particular proclivity comes from the Call side of the family. Nelson’s just never would. Never. Or at least we would be too ashamed to celebrate it.
So for Anson’s birthday, AND to celebrate today, the last official day of school for Roan, we’ll be having dinner at a Mexican Restaurant with friends and family. I also thought as a special treat for my husband, I’d share with the world three things about him that he’d prefer to keep under wraps. Marriage to Jodi = not for the weak.
- Anson’s least favorite phrase, and one which has earned a place in the legend of our marriage is when I utter a fill in the blank version of this formula: “You remember _____________, but you can’t even remember our first kiss?” See, Anson has a magical ability to recall every piece of minutia about technology, history, geology, Photoshop, and Janeane Garofalo but can’t remember when he first planted one right here on my kisser. I’ve remedied/punished this behavior by telling him several hundred fictional versions of the event. At this point, Anson doesn’t even know if we’ve kissed yet.
- Anson has given up many vices since we met, but there’s one he cannot leave behind. Every night, without exception, right before bed he’ll wonder aloud, “Should I have cookies and milk?” I always answer with a roll of the eyes and a shake of the head because it isn’t a question. It’s a statement of intent. And it never changes. He pours a giant glass of whole milk, then sits in front of the TV and dips his Nutter Butters into the milk, pops the entire cookie into his mouth and gives a shluuuuurp of his fingers. The last step used to be a shake of the hand to rid it of any residual milk but I have broken him of this last part because I got tired of cleaning milk dots from the periphery of Anson’s cookie spot.
- The moment I knew Anson was my one true love was after we had dated for a while, and I was heading over to his home. It was about a 45 minute drive, and as I was about to hang up the phone and begin my journey, he offered for no reason at all, “I think I’ll just sit around in my underwear and listen to Donna Summers until you get here.” I cannot explain why it pushed me over the edge from like to love but it did. Love is a mysterious thing.
Happy 33rd Birthday to my Anson Call. It’s funny that when I was thirteen you were only seven but one of these days, you’ll catch up. I love you, you young little whippersnapper.