How I Met Your Father

I decided to hate Russ before we’d even officially met. Don’t act surprised. You already know I tend to do this, and I already know it’s not mature, but it’s a hard habit to shake.

A dear friend was retiring, and another colleague was stepping into her position. This meant a vacancy in the classroom next door to mine. This meant change. I hate change, and I vowed to hate whomever was stepping into that position, sight unseen. Forever.

In the week before the week before school, as we all unofficially prepared our classrooms for the start of the school year, I avoided this man. I knew he was there, but I had no interest in meeting him. My friend was gone.

My plan would have succeeded, but an unexpected crisis popped up on the very first morning of professional development week.

Squinting in the early morning sun, I scanned the parking lot and pathway to the building hoping to find a familiar face, desperately trying to cool down. The heat of the moment was irrelevant-- I was already in full-blown meltdown mode.

That’s when I saw him. I hastened to his side.

“Hi. You teach at my school. You’ll be in the classroom next to mine. You haven’t met me, and I hoped you never would, but there’s this situation right now, so we’ll just have to put that behind us. What do you know about garage temperatures in the summer? How hot do they get? How high?”

“Hi,” he said.

“Yes, yes. I know high,” I said, “but what I mean is, how high? How hot?”
“Um, hot?” he said.
“No. I don’t think you’re getting it. How hot? Like, how many degrees?”
“Uh…”

Had I not made the urgency of the situation clear enough for him?

“Look, there’s this medicine I need to take. I’m supposed to take it all the time, but I forgot to take it this summer. I forgot to take it, and then I forgot it in the garage. Or maybe I forgot to take it because I forgot it in the garage. I'm not sure. I guess that part doesn't really matter. Anyway, it clearly says on the label”—I may have thrust the bottle at him at this point—“that it should be stored between 59 and 86 degrees, so we need to figure out how hot a garage gets or I am going to be like this All. Day. Long. Now are you going to help me?”

“I think you should take the medicine,” he said.

“Thank you," I replied gratefully, and I really did mean it, despite the hatred and whatnot. "By the way, it’s nice to meet you.”

He must have forgotten about this introduction, and I must have forgotten about my solemn vow of eternal hatred, because five years later he asked me to marry him and I agreed.