Indiana Jones and I have been married eleven years today, and I think I love him more today than I ever have. Lots of changes have been infused into our lives over the past two weeks, and he has proven to be the same courageous, strapping, burly hottie I have always known him to be.
You see I have always loved Indiana Jones. Always. I must warn you to stop reading now. Click on the casino pop-up. Read the obituaries. Scrub behind your toilets. Go schedule a root canal.
When I begin this story there are the perpetual moans of disgust that people must once again sit through this laboring legend, but I just love talking about Indiana Jones and how I captured him. Soon after the story, I heave out the wedding albums for hours of play-by-play entertainment. You can tell by the looks on their face how enthralled they are. Engrossed and captivated by the absolute perfection of the detailed rice balls. So sit back, kick off your shoes and get ready for a love story.
I have always known Indiana Jones. He played t-ball with my older annoying brother. Our parents live five miles “as the crow flies” from one another. He has always been in the scenery of my life. IJ and annoying brother became close in high school and I idolized him. I would see him in the hall at school – confident, athletic, outgoing, and a SENIOR. Oh how I loved Indiana Jones, from a distance. I just knew we were destined to be together. I would doodle our names in ornate drawings on my Trapper Keeper. I practiced saying my new last name. Oh, it sounded dreamy. I wonder how many children we would have. MASH said we would have 4 and live in a mansion…. All I had to do was get his attention and then he too would feel the chemistry. He would embrace destiny. After all, to IJ, I was just “the little sister.” Could he not see through the glasses, toothpick legs, and lack of fashion to my inner beauty? Apparently not.
But alas, my chance came. I was getting my hair cut at the ever-so-popular local salon, Country Fashions, and in ambled Indiana Jones. My heart skipped a beat. Then it stopped. My hair was soaked and less than attractive. How mortifying. I tried to hide, look the other way, veil my hideous self and become incognito. It failed. His stealth, keen scenes spotted me right away. And he announced to the entire three over 70 year-old people in the salon, “Hey, its C’s little sister.” He gave me a ride home from my haircut that afternoon and I just knew it was our chance for destiny. I placed my Algebra II book on top of my lap to look smart and impressive, but fate passed us by and he joined the Air Force that summer leaving me stranded in a pool of no prospects.
My annoying brother got married three years later and Indiana Jones came home from the Air Force to be the best man. I was a bridesmaid and had just recently broken up with unhealthy high school sweetheart. Hello Air Force Indiana Jones! IJ saw me in my splendid beauty, drove me back to my car after the reception and ELEVEN months later we were walking down the aisle ourselves.
It has been a journey beyond belief. But I know this to be true; there is no one other than Indiana Jones for me. I love him more today than ever.