Hubby and I have been married almost 20 years. I realized recently that I have known him for half of my life -- from here on out, he'll have been in my life more than out. Wow -- that's a heavy concept.
We have defied probabibility our entire relationship. We should not be together. We met in a bar. He approached me with a rather cliche line that worked because 1) the man can dance and 2) his dad had Colts tickets and I was interested in seeing a game. He also had a really cute British accent that I found out later only showed up after a few beers. Oh well. He was (and is) pretty hot.
He wanted to get married, almost from day one. Not me -- no way. As a matter of fact, I used to ask hubby why a certain restaurant was "our" restaurant. I knew that we liked it, but "ours?" He told me that it was the first place that he proposed where I said maybe. True that -- he'd already proposed four or five times by the time I cut him some slack and said maybe.
But the real proposal -- wasn't. Long story short, it was the first time I had had whiskey sours, and I ended up engaged -- on a dare.
We should've seen it coming. Two weeks before our wedding, our passports were lost in the mail. We hit the road to Miami, got them replaced in a day, and drove home, just in time to put them into the mail again, to get our visas. My wedding dress had been sent to the cleaners to get pressed -- and they lost it. Less than 24 hours before the wedding, we didn't know where it was, and I got broadsided on the way to go find it. I basically totalled our brand new car.
After the accident, the other driver (who had had a few himself but wasn't sharing), came over to me, patted my hand and said "it's ok honey, I'm sure he'll still marry you," turned, looked at his own, totalled, car and said "shit." Repeatedly. I went to my inlaws' house, walked in, burst into tears, and explained to my FIL what had happened, including the driver who had come out of nowhere and hit me. All he heard was that my dress was missing, asked where the cleaners was, and took off out the door, leaving me with BIL, who happens to be deaf. He promptly hugged me and said "I'm so sorry, Lisa, my brother's an ass." Turns out that for some reason, he thought that we'd had a fight, hubby had hit me, and the wedding was off. I just burst out laughing at the insanity of it all.
Half an hour later, I had my dress back, four hours later we were changing the location and time of the wedding (another totally different story) and 16 hours later we were married. A few months later, Oprah had a show about disastrous weddings, and several people called to say that we should've been on the show.
Twenty years later, our story is still nuts, but we're ok with that. It's just our version of Utter chaos, and Oprah hasn't done a show on that yet. When she does, man, we're in.