taco life

A couple of months ago I was driving up to Baltimore after work to visit my friend Cait when she gave me a call.  She told me that she had a surprise for me, and that I should call back after I had made it through the Harbor Tunnel to let her know that I was close.  Despite my pleading, she wouldn’t give me any more information than that about what she had up her sleeve.  So I all but sprinted from the car to her doorstep, only to be greeted by the foul stench of taco meat.  I couldn’t help but laugh as I entered her house.  Hanging from the archway between the living room and the kitchen was a handmade sign in three parts that read “Surprise it’s” and “Taco Night!” followed by “Woo Hoo!”

On Tuesday we had tacos for dinner again.  It was my turn to cook, and I put the meat on the stove and went upstairs to wake up Cait – who had fallen asleep reading her latest book-club book.  Before I did that, however, I had hung a new sign – one that I made – in the archway and I tied a shiny and expensive piece of jewelry to it.  She was in kind of a daze when she came downstairs, so it took her a minute to realize that this sign was different.  Thankfully, it took her less time to say yes.

I was chatting recently with Dabysan and he suggested that it might be time to drop the “my friend” modifier when I refer to Cait.  And he may be right.  He suggested changing it to “girlfriend,” but I had a better idea.  As of last Tuesday my friend Cait is the real future Mrs. Hotrod.  And I couldn’t be happier.


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