The First Time We Met Obsession: Stream of Consciousness Sunday

Quite possibly, one of my favorite times to write is Sunday night. It’s likely when I have the most material after a weekend or probably because I haven’t written in days. Sooooo, I do love Fadra's Stream of Consciousness Sunday. Sometimes I use the prompt and other times I don’t.

Today, I will. Although, I have two teeny, tiny tales about us that I’ll separate by a line and you can read one or both or neither! How’s that?

Today’s (Optional) Writing Prompt: What are the stories of your life that you love to tell people when you have a chance?

It’s five minutes, unedited, not spell checked (I wish the computer didn’t correct everything), and not proofed.

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What kid doesn’t ask or isn’t incredibly curious about how their parents met and the story behind it? Mine always were to the point of obsession and I’ll tell you why.

This family has a tendency to be way over interested with food, especially pizza, so that’s where this all starts.

Picture four single people living in the city of Chicago. Only one of us is mutually acquainted with all of us which was Anne (I always called her “Crazy Anne” but that’s a whole other story). Anyway, shed met these guys at a Cubs game a few weeks before. Talked about them excessively to the point I became annoyed. No one can be that fun. No one can be that funny. No one can be that cute.

Knowing I didn’t have anything to do on a particular Saturday evening in the late fall, Anne called me to hang out with her new best buds. I made sure this wasn’t a set up and she promised it wasn’t. Just two boys and two girls with no plans for a Saturday night going out for pizza and a few pitchers of beer.

It could have been the funniest, most fun, night in my 25 years to that point. I have yet to see another guy look as good in Levis and a button down shirt as I did that night (The rear view, ladies! And shoulders!) And to this day still the funniest.  

Chicago Pizza and Oven Grinders**, is the place we firstmet. Our kids were dying to get inside this place that was always jam packed and the host never took names just remembered you (how did he do that they wanted to know?)

Now they have taken the train down to the city and brought their firiends or significant others saying, “isn’t this place so fun? This is where my parents met.”

**Chicago Pizza and Oven Grinders is located in a historic building that sat directly across the street from a no longer existent parking garage famous for the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.

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Short story #2:

As has been the case since the children were born and with the exception of vacation time, Daddy always left the lake on a summer Sunday night and very begrudgingly I might add. Oh, the tears and down right sobbing I’d have for hours after even while knowing we would have a fun five days and Daddy would be back before they knew it. Didn’t matter.

We would stand in the driveway and wave and blow kisses and he would honk a few times as he slowly drove away. We wouldn’t leave until we couldn’t see him anymore and he wouldn’t stop honking until he couldn’t see us.

Daddy had trouble making his decision tonight…stay and leave for work in the city ( 2.5 hours away) at 4am or leave tonight. As tough as it was, we all agreed it would be easier on him if he left tonight since he has to go out of town 6am Tuesday.

As we stood in the driveway, waved and blew kisses and he honked the whole way, we saw brake and reverse lights come on. Did he change his mind? Amanda and I hugged each other excitedly saying “He’s coming back for tonight!”

When he saw how happy we were, he apologized with a sad look and said, “I forgot my sunglaases. I’m so sorry.”

At least we all got another round of hugs.

(More to the this “absence makes the heart grow fonder” story really soon)