My husband and I must have listened to thousands of songs trying to pick out the perfect song for our first dance. We had very different ideas of what we wanted to dance to, and most of the conflict came from the fact that I just didn't expect him to care. My example of marriage is my parents: my dad allows my mother to pretty much run the show 'cause it's just easier that way. I expected my husband to be a whole lot like that, but my husband is more like my mother than he is my father. I'm more like my father and... well, you know.
Anyway, we were listening to songs over and over. Songs we knew. Songs we hadn't heard. Songs that we hated. Finally, a song that I had heard 1,000 times showed up on one of the lists that I was reading. All of a sudden all the pieces came together, but for reasons that no one else would understand.
We danced to "Wonderful tonight" by Eric Clapton. My understanding is that the way that song sounds and what it actually means are two very different things, but that's not why I picked it. I picked it because it reminded me of the moment that I decided my husband was my Superman.
The place we worked out threw a party for us because we all worked really hard launching a new product. The party was at an upscale bowling alley with a bar (if there is such a thing). I have never been a big drinker. At some point in the fairly short time we were there, I lost count of the number of cosmos that my now husband had put in front of me. We are just recently started dating, so I don't think I was ready to be a drunk sloppy mess in front of him. He thought it was funny.
I had never and will never again have that much to drink in my life.
The best part of the night happened as he went to walk me to my car, which he was clearly driving. A girl we worked with who was notorious for being, let's say, "not particularly scrupulous" about the men she went out with or the number of men she went out with, came up to me with a concerned look on her face. She kept asking me if everything was okay and if I needed a ride home. All I could think was "I'm here with my boyfriend. Go away." Apparently, I never actually voice those words. A day later, at work, she came up to me and said that she didn't know we were dating, and she thought he was just trying to take me home and take advantage of me.
Anyway, he did take me home, but there was no advantage to be had. I was so tipsy that I couldn't shut up, and quickly started feeling like word vomit wasn't going to be the only thing coming out of my mouth. I lay down on the bathroom floor knowing that something bad was going to happen and within minutes all 567 (or however many) drinks I had came right back. It was fan-fucking-tastic.
The things that followed are where he earned her proverbial cape and tights.
Even though there was vomit everywhere, he sprang into action, cleaned up my clothes, threw me into the shower and then just stayed with me. Then, he put me into bed afterward, checked on me the next morning to make sure that I was done throwing up. He went into work late just because he was concerned.
He should have been concerned, It was his freaking fault.
I'll leave that be.
Anyway, the fact that he was so quick to ignore the grossness of the situation and get down and dirty (read: disgusting) for a girl he really didn't know that well yet was when I had my "aha!" moment about him.
If he could put up with puke, he could put up with anything.
Back to the point, in the song "Wonderful Tonight," Eric Clapton sings about being sick from drinking too much. He says that she drives him home and puts him to bed. That's the moment that I remember most about our relationship in the early days, and it was the moment that pretty much made sure that our relationship had many days left to come.
Because my darling, you look wonderful tonight.
As always, it's hip to be square (and reference other songs!), kids.