This week is my fourth wedding anniversary. From that day to this, my husband & I have squeezed in a few big life events, including the birth of our two cheeky monkeys. Robert has been very supportive since I started this blog, acting as editor when I need him. After the first post, he told me he was the biggest weirdo I have ever met. And I agreed. To celebrate four years married & fourteen years together, I’d like to reproduce here the wedding speech I gave at our reception.
When I sat down to write this speech, I had planned to tell everyone about how I first met Robert. But the thing is, we’ve been together for over ten years & most of you know how we met. Our eyes locked under the glow of the fluorescent lights at the petrol station where we both worked. Our hands tentatively touched stacking cans in the beans & peas aisle & we have never looked back since.
I thought instead I’d tell everyone how we almost met.
When you’ve been together for a while, you tend to talk to each other about every little thing. Past, present & future.
What’s been strange is learning how many times we’ve been in the same place at the same time. Never quite actually meeting one another. We have a lot of shared friends & acquaintances. A lot of shared memories of events or night outs we’d both been on but never met.
The first time was one New Year’s Eve. I was out at a club & bumped in a guy I knew. He was the boyfriend of a friend, at least he was. I didn’t know the friend had split up with him over Christmas. A conversation ensued which resulted in the guy leaving with tears in his eyes. He then needed a shoulder to cry for the rest of the evening. That shoulder was Robert.
I had inadvertently ruined Robert’s night by innocently asking the question ‘where’s your girlfriend?’
Another time, I was taking my little sister to the cinema. Little did I know a new projectionist had started in the cinema that week. When Finding Nemo eventually started, it came on with no sound, with the curtains still drawn across the screen & upside down.
While the film restarted, my sister & I nipped out to get snacks. She was about five at the time & rather curious. On the way back, she bounded up the stairs to the cinema screen. She noticed an open door & she immediately ran to sneak a peak into the projectionist’s booth. A head peered round the door & rather gruffly grabbed the doorknob slamming the door closed.
‘Who was that?’ She asked.
‘That’s the hobgoblin who makes all the films & lives under the stairs.’ I told her.
Reader, I married that hobgoblin.
The last time we nearly met was only a few months before we worked together. A friend of mine rang me to tell me she was at a bar & she had met someone who was perfect for me.
The only problem was I was at home in my pyjamas.
Now, once my pyjamas are on, there is no moving me for love nor money. So the chance slipped by.
The next day, I quizzed my friend on this mysterious man who was so perfect for me. For a while, she couldn’t put her finger on it.
Now the friend in question was English, just like me. Despite moving to Ireland when she was a child, she still had a very strong English accent, just like I did. It turned out that the person she thought was my perfect match had spent the whole night mocking her English accent in spite of the fact he had an English mum.
Just like I would have if I was there.
The point these stories are we could have met a dozen times before we actually did. Maybe if we had met one of those times, we might not be where we are today. Perhaps we got together just at exactly the right time.
So I’d like everyone to toast my hobgoblin of a husband, Robert, & his perfect timing.