Monday, November 28, 2011

I'm Married to a 46 Year Old Man.

I'm married to a 46-year-old man? Shocking, I know. (I'm so young! What would we ever have in common? I mean an entire 4-year difference!) Crazier still, I'm in love with him.

So, here are some things you might not know about Dave Scott.

He can give a half-time speech to a middle school soccer team that's never won a game in the school's history -- a speech so beautiful and inspiring that it can make grown men cry.

For better or for worse, he sings -- with a Tourette-ish insistence -- throughout the day.

He once rammed a luggage rack on wheels through a revolving door at a hotel -- got stuck for a panic-stricken moment in the middle -- and finally burst through to the other side.

Excellent at Scrabble, he flounders at Charades -- once acting out a sounds-like for Fancy and Poo to lead us to Nancy Drew.

He has a weakness for Nikes.

We spend every day together, pretty much. And even at the end of those days, we still feel like we need time to talk.

I miss him sometimes when he's in the other room and we follow each other -- talking -- throughout the house.

On our first date, he made me dinner. At the end, he asked me what I wanted for dessert -- as if, back in his kitchen, he had every dessert known to man. I said, "I like chocolate and I like cheesecake." He only had one dessert, in fact. A chocolate cheesecake.

Because he has such a common name, I once asked him if he'd ever wished he'd had a more exciting name when he was a kid. He said, "Yes. I always wanted to be named Jeff."

His French is good enough to explain -- in great detail -- to non-English-speaking cops how exactly we got robbed.

He is the Patron Saint of Lost Abs. Seriously, he's as fit as the day I met him, which can be irritating (four babies later).

Sometimes I make him sing to me -- really cheesy stuff. And he does.

One time, I told him that he was my Starsky. And he said, "Really? I've always fancied myself a David Soul type."

When he drops me off at work (he drives me because I don't like to drive and because it gives us time to talk) -- and especially when work's been a little fraught -- he shouts out, "Be cavalier!"

When he's in a funk, all I want to do is gaze at him.

When he's asleep, he looks exactly the same as the day I met him.

He invented the term "Hug the Bear" and would really love to see it take off.

Every night, I say, "Do you think everything's going to be alright?" And he says, "Yes." And I can then try to fall asleep.

Happy Birthday, Dave Scott -- or Jeff -- my Starsky (or Hutch).

And, of course, Hug the Bear!

A few more Dave Scott snapshots:

My Valentine:

The Long Marriage:

Through Loss: