Day 15
Matt and I have been cleaning the house today; going through things, organizing, getting rid of stuff. The best thing about spending the day going through things and organizing is this: it always ends with a trip down memory lane. Tonight, it ended with us looking through an old yearbook of mine from eighth grade in 1996. It was the year that Matt and I had a history class together. During that class, we studied World War II. That meant we talked about Nazis. That meant that Matt's eighth grade mind made a connection between my German last name, my blond hair, and my blue eyes. So he started calling me, "the Nazi." I was horrified. I went home crying and complaining to my parents. They told me he was probably teasing me because he liked me. I didn't believe them.
Fast forward 20 years later: We were looking through that yearbook on our couch in our home with our children sleeping upstairs in their beds. He still likes my blond hair and my blue eyes. But he doesn't call me a Nazi. And my parents were right. He liked me. He still does.
So thankful for my love.
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