I had planned on having a small get together to celebrate Independence Day/Tom Sawyer Paints a Fence Day/Our 2nd Anniversary, but, instead, Josh planned a punk show at Community Cycles that he, as the planner, needed to attend and I, as the mom of a 2 month old, could not (sensitive baby ears and all that). So, Josh went to the show while I stayed home and watched Law & Order reruns with Eames.
Sometime around 10:00, when we were tucking ourselves into bed, Josh called. I could barely hear him through the background noise, but he asked me to listen. I pictured him holding out his phone and vaguely familiar music floated haltingly through the receiver, clearly too loud for our cheap phones. I told him it sounded familiar but I couldn't place it. It's Waves of Mutilation, he said. Awesome. Later that night, he told me he gave us a shout-out:
"Two years ago today, I watched a movie with a girl with that song in it. Today we have a 9 week old."
And that, in short, is our story. Part of me wished I had been there to hear it myself, that acknowledgment of our history, our life, our love...But, knowing he was thinking about us and about that first night we met when we bonded over a love of television and he agreed to watch Pump Up the Volume (which I own) with me because he too loves it, made me almost as happy as being there. And lying in bed playing with Eames while I listened to those garbled notes on my cell phone made me glad I wasn't. This is a good life.And 9 Weeks.