Kiss Day

Husband and I had our first kiss on December 1, 1995.

He was just twenty-two and I, the cradle robber, was thirty.

Things I remember…

After work, we met some coworkers at a Cantina to celebrate my boss’s birthday.

Happy Birthday, Rebecca!!

Husband and I rode to the restaurant together as friends.

We took a detour to the Ocean Beach Pier on the way back and arrived home as something more.

A nosy acquaintance had taken me out to lunch earlier that month, just to grill me about the relationship.  At the time of her third degree, husband and I were strictly platonic with no plan of anything more, so that’s what I told her.

“We’re really good friends, ”  I said, but she didn’t believe me.  I found her questions impolite and annoying.  The day after husband and I kissed, I laughed at her in my head.

I remember finally being able to study husband’s face that night.  I couldn’t do it for weeks before we kissed, because I knew my eyes would give away what I was feeling.

I was wearing a long loose knit sweater, a pair of black leggings and flat slip-on shoes.  Oh, and a necklace.

It was a little bit windy on the pier and there were a handful of people there, fishing.

Walking back to the car afterward was weird.  Exciting, strange, and sweet, but weird.

The following days at work were agonizing.  I couldn’t think straight and I felt paranoid and nervous, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

Husband left me love notes and we kissed some more.

Now we’re married and we have a beautiful little boy and a house and three cats and a Christmas Tree and all the almonds we can eat and a cow on the piano.

Life is good.

And it started with a kiss.

Happy Kiss Day Anniversary, Husband.

I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.


6 thoughts on “Kiss Day

  1. Aww, I love hearing about how people met their partners in life. What a great story, well told! And Happy 1st Kiss Anniversary!

    • Okay, I guess I deserve that for the cradle reference. And so this shall be our public declaration to omit both metaphors from all future discussion of our relationship.

  2. How romantic! I kissed my husband the first night I met him, in a bar called Smitty’s. He was drunk. I was not, but it was my plan. People yelled at us, “Get a room!”. Not so romantic, but it’s a little more than 24 years later and we’re still in love.

    Your story is infinitely more romantic.

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