So this past weekend, Mr. Incredible and I attended my 20-year high school reunion. I, of course, was running late and when Mr. I arrived to pick me up, I was running around in jeans and my bra, trying to figure out what to wear. I believe I practically screamed, “JUDGE ME” as I tried on different shirts, jeans and shoes.
Poor Mr. I! I will say he handled it like a truly dear boyfriend, and stared at my ass in different pairs of jeans to see if it looked fat. He was really, sort of a champ about it.
And when we arrived to the reunion, I have to say, I was excited and nervous all at the same time, but we ended up having an extremely GOOD time. Like, together. He was personable to all the ladies he spoke with, he was attentive to me (a.k.a. bought me beer when I was out), he was charming and of course, as handsome as ever.
During dinner, ballots were handed out to the ladies of the class of 1990 so that we could vote on things, what we remembered about others. Class clown, most popular, shyest, smartest … you get the idea. When the names were read aloud of the votes, I’m sure that you can imagine my surprise when my name was read aloud for …