Mike, Mike, and Mike

So, Ruben and I went to the STP concert the other night – yea, I know, you know that already but there is more to tell.
That night we were sitting in our seats, waiting for the music to start and in walk six of the craziest guys I’ve seen since my sorority days. There was Matt, John, PJ (or DJ or SOMETHING J) and three other guys that seemed to be straight out of American Pie. DJ (I’m just going to pick this and run with it) had to be the person Adam Herz modeled Stifler after – I mean he looked, sounded, and personified that character.

These six guys were clearly thrilled to be at the concert and when the seats filled in front of them, they started to introduce themselves. Well, Michelle and Mike were first to break the ice. They were from Fresno or something and were quite the chatter boxes. After that came Alicia and another Mike.

These grown men acted like they had never met two people with the same name. They were SO EXCITED that they had two Mikes in front of them.

So, Ruben gives me a glance and a “I’m about to cause some trouble” smile and I nod, knowingly.

DJ turns around and asks our names and I introduce myself as Alli and Ruben, puts out his hand and says, “I’m Mike”

I swear, I would’ve been shocked if there was a pair of dry pants in that row of boys. Three Mikes in one tiny space was more than they could handle. For the rest of the night, these guys could not get over the three Mikes and we could not get over their excitement.

I wonder what they would think if they only knew…

The Ways We Belong Together

The other day (7/20 to be exact) Ruben and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary. As a present, my parents gave us money to go out to dinner so, being that every dollar I get these days goes to something responsible, I forced us to enjoy the money and go out. We went to the Apple Farm in San Luis Obispo. Neither of us had been there in our adult life so it seemed like a nice choice. Normally, during dinner, we would casually talk about our days until an uncomfortable silence would set in and then, for the rest of the evening we would be pulling teeth from one another to get conversation going again. That night, that was not a problem.
Part way through dinner, we were talking about pet owning and Ruben said that I was a bad pet owner. I said, “Look who’s talking!” – he has a ferret that he never plays with.
“Ferrets are supposed to be loving and cuddly”
and he said, “So. Are. You”.
Way to be mean on a nice night out! Were we not supposed to be celebrating our love for one another? I swear!

That’s about when I swatted his forehead with a spoon covered in vanilla ice cream.

I think it was the best date we’ve been on in a long time.