On the "M" word

Da, da, dum.....Three years ago today...Saturday, November 27, 2004. Clint and I had just celebrated our first Thanksgiving together and my birthday with his family. We were driving back across Georgia to check out the Salley, South Carolina Chitlin' Strut. (Check out this description of a chitlin'.) But back to the story at hand....

I don't remember exactly where we were on the road, and I can't tell you what the conversation was, but I remember driving past a mall when Clint first said the "m" word. You know, M-A-R-R-I-A-G-E. At the risk of ruining the story, let me explain.

Clint and I had been dating for a few months at that time. And, although I had been in denial about things for most of those months, we were getting pretty serious. To the point that my family was asking when we were going to get married. In those conversations with my family, I firmly declared that I was not going to bring up that conversation; Clint would have to be the one to say "The 'M' Word" first.

And he said it. Driving along some highway in Georgia, he asked me when I thought we should get married. Me? I started giggling. "You said the 'M' word!" I laughed. I don't think he got it at first. When I finally calmed down, I was able to talk about things pretty reasonably, I think. We discussed various dates and scenarios. Then my sweet, dear husband said something about getting a ring. And I started giggling again. "You said ring!" Clint may have been serously reconsidering bringing up the "M" word at that point. But he put up with my giggling about random words, stressing about planning, freaking out about birds and moving (oh that is another story...), and plenty more since then. He is my support and my peace. I am so glad he said the "M" word.