A boy, a girl, and a football jersey

So, I know I have posted this story before.  In fact...more than once.  But I love to read it...and I love to tell it...and I found a blog that is hosting a  "project marriage" (a way to reconnect as a couple and make your marriage stronger).  I find the idea intriguing so I decided to give it a try.

June's challenge for "Project Marriage" is: Your Love Story

 So...without further ado....(if you have already read it...just go find something else to do)

A boy, a girl, and a football jersey  

(revised for the 2nd time)

There once was a girl named Melanie 

 

who fell madly in love with a "hot" football player named Rob. 

He sat in front of her in Spanish 2010 and, although she was dating someone else, found herself smitten by his charm. She vowed, to her roommates, that one day she would marry him (and they totally didn't believe me...true story). All she had to do now was convince him of her interest (which was pretty hard to do...he was pretty dense back then.  Girls flocked to him and he had no idea).   After a shameless amounts of flirting Rob finally realized that Melanie might actually like him.

Each day Melanie would come home from class and sit at the front window of her apartment (which just so happened to be located across from the field where the football players practiced). She would happily gaze out at the field and dream of the day she would discover which player he was.  

 (picture actually taken while watching practice one day...I'm in the center)

One day, while sitting at her persistent perch, Melanie spotted a head full of orange hair (a bleach job gone bad--he's actually a brunette) and knew it had to be him

(she would later discover that she could pick him out by his football pants clad backside rather than his hair...yowsers).  

 

Could it be? Had she finally found her "true love" in the sea of white jerseys?  

It had to be...and it was.  #40 was never far from her sight or mind again.

A week or so later, Melanie returned from country swing dancing (that's right....laugh it up) to discover something lying on her bed. It was football jersey #40. It had been ripped down one side (oh no....was her beloved Rob hurt?) and a note was attached. 

It read,

Dear Melanie,

I love you. I have always loved you. Will you marry me?

Love, 

#40

A moment of hope.  Rob had discovered his love for her and had come to ask for her hand.  Wait a second.  Reality settled in around her and Melanie knew that, even though her heart longed for it, this could not be true (I mean, we had only known each other for a few weeks).  

She was brokenhearted.  Who had played such a cruel joke on her.  Who?  Who?  

She needed answers...and she got them.


The culprits confessed immediately...and without conscience.

The boys that lived downstairs from her (who knew she sat day after day watching #40 from her window) happened upon the jersey lying on the football field while walking home earlier that evening. 

They couldn't believe their luck. What were the chances?

They plotted their evil scheme and waited for the girls in apartment "B" to leave for the night. They wrote the note, broke into the apartment through a side window, and laid everything on Melanie's bed.

It was a cruel, cruel joke.

Melanie was furious. How could they toy with her emotions like that?  She returned the jersey to the villains and fled. 

But they would not be deterred.  They continued to taunt her and refused to take the jersey back.  

What could she do?

And then...a though...a plan...maybe fate...who knows?...Melanie had an idea.

"Yes.....that will do”, she said to herself, as she tacked the jersey to the siding on the front of her apartment building (true story).

The next day, Melanie went to Spanish class and executed "phase 2" of the plan.

Melanie (boldly): "Hey Rob, what is your football jersey doing on the front of my house?"

Rob (looking confused): "My jersey? I don't know? What do you mean?"

Melanie: "I mean, your jersey is hanging on the front of my apartment building. #40, right? How did it get there? Did you put it there?"

Rob (even more confused): "NO? I don't know how it got there. It got ripped off me during practice yesterday. I gave it to one of the managers.  She took it. I haven't seen it since."

(ah...so that's how the boys got it, I thought)

Melanie: "Well, it's there. I guess you will see it at practice today."

And sure enough, at practice that fine day, Rob did, indeed, see the jersey. In fact, the whole team saw the jersey and began their inquiries.

"Rob, how did your jersey get over there?" "I thought it was destroyed yesterday." "Ow Ow Rob....way to go," etc, etc, etc.

A few days later Rob's parents arrived from Washington to watch Rob play in the Homecoming Game.  They were astonished when Rob pointed to the Stadium View Apartments and said (all proud like),

"See that jersey over there?.....yeah, it's mine."

"How did it get there?" they asked.

"I don't know."

"Well, do you know someone who lives there?"

"Yeah, this really cool girl in my Spanish class lives there. Her name is Melanie."

"Hmm," they said.  

Little did they know that it would not be the last time they would hear about that "really cool girl in [his] Spanish class."

Within a few weeks Rob and Melanie were dating.

Eventually the jersey was retired from the front of the apartment building and after several washings (including a two day soak in a garbage can of bleach water), was lovingly stitched back up the side and hung on the wall in Melanie's bedroom. 

This treasure of hers soon became the centerpiece of what was known as the "Shrine De Rob".

A year and a half later (after experiencing an almost break-up, a summer apart, a reunion, a lot of marriage talk, an actual break up, him begging me to take him back, an acceptance, a proposal, and a lot of good times), Rob and Melanie were married on May 10th in Manti, UT.

Melanie knew all along it would happen and cant help but think it was the #40 jersey that brought them together.

Sappy, I know...but very, very true.

So as you see, the boy got the girl (or should I say the girl got the boy) and they lived Happily Ever After

...or so you would think.

Man, I suck.

Four years of marriage, two kids, and two moves had taught Melanie that life was simpler without clutter, no matter what that clutter may be.  As preparations unfolded for move #3 (while pregnant with child #3), Melanie decided a bit of de-cluttering was in order (and she looses all sentimentality when she is pregnant).

She did the unbelievable.  She tossed the jersey.  Yes!...THAT jersey. THE #40 Jersey.

To this day Melanie has no actual knowledge of doing it.  She does not believe that she could have been so uncaring and unfeeling to have banished it from the house but, alas, Rob vows that she did (seriously?!?  We kept some of Rob's practice jerseys from high school. Why would I have gotten rid of the white #40 and kept those?). How could she do such a thing?

After posting this story the first time, including a plea to any of her roommates who might have any pictures including the jersey, a miracle happened.  One of the roommates found some pictures of "The Shrine De Rob" (pictured above) and sent them to Melanie.  It was a glorious day.

So while it still makes Melanie sick that she got rid of the #40 jersey, she at least has a few pictures to bring her comfort and fond memories.

The END

11 years, 1 break-up, 1,000,000's of kisses, 1 marriage, 8 moves, 4 jobs, and 4 boys later, we are here.....we are thriving....and sometimes, we laugh together like the weight of parenthood and responsibility has been lifted off our shoulders.....like the good 'ol days.

It's awesome.  

And yes...
 

I still love this boy.

And I bet he would STILL look awesome in a pair of football pants.  ;)

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Hygienically Challenged

You know your hygienically challenged when you say to your husband,

"You don't mind if I go shower, do you?"

and he responds by saying,

"Mel...you know I ALWAYS encourage you to shower."

I admit it...I stink...a lot.

I'm a mother of 4 children.  4 BOYS to be exact.  And showering is not always my #1 priority during that small block of time during the day when they are completely zombie-d out (aka attached to the computer or TV screen).

Most of the time I reserve that for my workout.

And...if I DO attempt to do it any other time of the day, I run the risk of A. the house burning down  B.  the boys beating each other up C.  food pulled out of every crevice in the house, in which it's either consumed in its entirety or thrown all over the floor  or D. all of the above.

It really is a deterrent.

But in my defense...I usually give people fair warning when they come near me.

P.S.
If you are one of those moms that wakes up every morning, showers, and gets ready for the day (instead of hanging out in your stinky workout clothes), always looking put together and cute AND you can still manage to maintain a healthy weight without ever reserving time to exercise your body...I hate you.  I really do.  :)
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Bedtime funnies

While I'm putting the kids to bed tonight Mini Rob (3) says to me,

"Mom"  "Mom"  "When I eight, I be a grownup like [G-McBabe] (almost 8).....then I play Kung Fu Panda."

He was so excited.

I chose not to burst his bubble by A.  informing him that when he is 8 years old he will not yet be a "grown up"  or B.  that I hope when he IS finally "grown up" he will truly have better things to do with his time than play video games  (Now if only I could convince his father of this....who, by the way, is sitting, at this precise moment, playing his XBOX 360 behind me...ahem).

and then there was G-McBabe...

"Mom...can you come snuggle with me?"...upon observing my "I've had a long day, I just want to sit down and relax and nothing else" look, he adds "for just like one or two minutes."

Then...he give me the "please...it's not too much to ask after all the hell you have put me through over the last few years" look.

Touché.

He's got me there.

  

To reward him for his ingenious tactics, I obliged.

Yeah...I'm that nice.
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Attack of the flying bugs leads to desperate use of duct tape

Now, I'm not one to get squeamish about a few bugs here and there.

Yes, I kill spiders (even squish them with my hands or bare feet), I pick up praying mantis's, I'll hold a handful of rolly polly's while my 3 year old uses the bathroom at the park,  but I do not....I repeat, DO NOT like infestations of any kind.  You know...a large gathering of small-ish creepy things.  It makes me feel vulnerable and itchy all over.

Among my least favorites are ants (now that's a good story for later), lice, maggots, and swarming winged ones of any kind.


That's why I spent some time this morning repairing holes in some window and door screens (and when I use the term "repair" I mean jimmy rigging things with duct tape because I don't believe in spending money on things unless I absolutely have to (exceptions being any sort of  sugary goodness) because I have a pack of male rugrats who are determined to destroy anything in their path, so until they are grown and out of the house or we become millionaires and can afford to keep up on repairs I will continue to patch things up with a large roll of duct tape that cost me no more than $6 at old Walmart-O).

(Let's see...where was I?)

Right...so...in summers past, at night, when it would finally get dark enough to turn the lights on inside, we would get all sort of winged friends coming in to play.  They'd enjoy swarming, particularly around the dining room light fixture, and then laying their bodies to rest (dying) on the table for us all to enjoy with our breakfasts the next morning.

But this year (I assume because of the wetter spring and the holes in the screens) we not only have them gathering in the dining room, but the kitchen, the windows throughout the house, and my bedroom ceiling.  I swear I went to bed last night with nightmares of waking up to a "blanket" of bugs.

UGH!  So disgusting.


So...the screen door got a bit of work done on her (notice the handle missing?  Yeah...the kids broke that off two summers ago...so last year I jimmy rigged a "handle" down lower where they could reach it and, wouldn't you know, they'd rather just tear a whole in the screen and open and close the door with the frame instead...yeah...that's why I don't replace things).  Now she's all patched and looking perty don't cha think?(We'll see how long it lasts.)

 The other major repair was on the large kitchen window screen.  Earlier this year I just happened to lock myself out of my car at Costco.  Yeah...Rob was out of town with the three older boys so Mr. Golden Locks and I were stuck...really stuck.  Luckily I have a good friend who was willing to break into my house (thank goodness I left a window open) and grab a spare set of keys.  Unfortunately, those screens are extremely difficult to get out (which is a good thing otherwise any crazy might try to get in) and I gave her permission to bend it if she needed to.  So she did...(no don't feel bad) and came to my rescue.  Long story...well, long....the screen was bent and the bugs have had a super easy time getting in.  

Until today...

With a little bit of muscle and, you guessed it, duct tape, the screen is back in place and doing its job quite nicely.    

Now before you go on judging me, just keep in mind that these repairs, although somewhat "trashy" looking,  cost me no more than $.15 cents.

How's that for "frugal" home improvement?  

And, even better,...so far so good on lessening the amount of little buggies buzzing around my head right now. 

That makes me happy....very happy. 

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Finding joy in a sparkling john

In an effort to find happiness in the ever recurring, mundane tasks of motherhood, I have started a monumental task of focusing on "little successes" for my sense of daily accomplishment and validity.

Some days I feel good about myself because I get in a workout, other days, for sitting long enough to read a book to my kids, and on other days, just surviving until bedtime without too many tears.


I often ask myself, "What do I need to do today in order to feel worthwhile and successful (like there's an actual purpose to my existence)?"

Today...it was taking a scrub brush (and chisel) to the disgusting-ness that was the kids bathroom (man...it's been a while...remember?).

It took a little elbow grease but i finally got all the fuzz (aka nasty mold from our disgusting local water) out of the john.

(I'm exaggerating, of course...the fuzz actually comes off fairly easily.)

I just love it when my toilet is sparkly.  :)  Makes me all giddy happy!



The kids and I left the house for a few hours and came home to the permeating scent of Lysol and toilet bowl cleaner.

I took a deep breath....ahhhh.....the smell of success!

I love it!


What kinds of "little things" make you  feel worthwhile and happy? 


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