Monday, January 4, 2010

Papi, you're getting old.

This week is the anniversary of my first date with Papi.

The twentieth anniversary.

Because we are old and befuddled, we don't remember the exact details. On or about January 4, 1990, I recall that we went to see Look Who's Talking, where I was mortified by the opening credits scene of sperm traveling through Fallopian tubes. Papi remembers there being a visit to Putt-Putt Miniature Golf and a stop at a JV basketball game where a guy in my class gave me a high-five. Anyway, that's pretty much the grand tour of Southeast Texas date spots.

Twenty years later Papi knows far more about my Fallopian tubes than he could have ever imagined as a 16-year old with a mullet and a brand new driver's license.

Happy anniversary, Papi.

3 comments:

  1. Awesome! "Look Who's Talking" is a terrible, no good date movie choice. Almost as bad as the first date I had with "Leaving Las Vegas."

    Congratulations on two decades together!

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  2. Try 22 fucking years (and I'm only 39!!). December 17, 1987...my mom told me to "just lay one on him already." He laid one on me and the rest is history.

    Happy Anniversary!

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  3. Getting old is only in our mind.
    Age never prevented people from doing things:
    http://www.whatwasdone.com/

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