Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back,
OK, I’ll humor you and explain the three way bit, because I just know that’s what you’re here for. For anyone who missed it (where on earth have you been?), myself, Sarah from
I Am Awesome Just Me and Lucy from Ravishing Diminishing Lucy have been doing a bit of guest posting on each others blogs. We chatted about where we blog at Sarah’s and swapped recipes at Lucy’s. And now we’re doing “How I Met My Partner” right here in the comfort of your RRSAHM.
So sit back, relaxxxxx, and enjoy some super hot three way action (hello Google weirdos).
So, introductions are made (Hi, nice to meet you, nice eyes, how ya doing). I take a seat next to The Man and prepare to engage in small talk.
And he, ever so slightly inebriated as he was, leans over and vomits all over the floor. Remind to do a post on The Man and his incredibly weak stomach sometime in the near future.
Love at first sight, obviously. South Park style.
Somewhat unsurprisingly, a good three years pass before we get together. One sunny Spring day, not long after I finally broken free from incredibly messy and so-dead-even-Dr Phil-can’t-CPR-it relationship with Gooba The Clown; my friend Kimmy Ann and I again find ourselves at The Man’s sister’s place. The Man is there, in fine form.
Is he flirting with me? I think he is. What do i do? Flirt back. Do I remember how to do that? Sure I do. And… flutter eyelashes… smile….. laugh… this is too easy….how hot am I?
Wait. Hold on. He’s leaving. Umm…. no “Can I have your number?” Well, screw you then, Man.
Long story short, three days later my friend Kimmy Ann says the Man has rung his sister to get her number, then rang her to get my number. She, bless her, checked with me if she could pass my number on. Erm…. OK, what the hell, why not. If he turns out to be a serial killer, at least I know where his sister lives and will be able to tele-communicate that information to the police psychic who finds my body.
*Cough* Moving on.
Later that night, The Man finally gets round to ringing me. A few weeks after that, we have our first date.
Six weeks on, and we decide to buy a house together, and after another six weeks we move in. Did someone say “Ready to commit?”
The Chop was born 14 months after our first date. We eventually got around to getting married almost a year ago.
And- ta-da!- we all lived happily after all.