According to Plan

I remember being a teenaged girl and imagining what it would be like to grow up, get married, and give a talk in chuch that explained how it all started. 

"Hi, I'm Andrea, and this is my husband, Mr. Right.  We're new in the ward."

Teenaged Andrea knew exactly how her story would continue.

"We met in choir in college..." and though I wouldn't have included it in the over-the-pulpit description, I'd silently think, "and we sing great duets, which I'm sure you'll get to hear soon, because we'll be the ward music chairperson's go-to couple."

Well, teenaged Andrea was wrong.  Here's how the story really goes.

Hi, I'm Andrea Fife, and this is my husband, Kirk.  We met on the internet.

I'm going to go ahead and pause here for the verification I always have to give when I have this conversation out loud.

Really.

Kirk was a recently returned missionary working two jobs.  Since his life did a "complete 360" (summoning Karl Malone here, if you didn't get the reference) just before his mission, his pre-mission friends weren't exactly living the lifestyle he was looking for.  He decided to use the internet to try to meet some new friends.

I was a receptionist for a real estate company, and I was bored.  I decided to post a match.com profile just for fun, but almost stopped when I realized I would have to pay to list my contact information.  I didn't care enough to pay, so I just posted my email address as my profile name.  I didn't have any digital pictures of myself, so my profile remained pictureless.

Kirk never looked at profiles without pictures, but for some reason, my screenname "muzikchick" caught his attention.  He read about what kind of guy I was looking for, and emailed me to let me know he was perfect for me.  I just checked that old email account to see if I happened to have been sentimental enough to save any of those early emails.  Sadly, nope.  It went something like this.

"You said you like tall, dark, and handsome.  Well, I'm 6'3", I have black hair, and I think I'm funny looking, but people say I'm handsome." 

I had also mentioned I was looking for someone athletic, and he had played high school football.  He did fess up to not fitting the part about being musically talented.  I gave him a chance anyway.

We chatted online from Monday to Wednesday, and learned just about everything about eachother.  By Wednesday, I knew I wanted to meet him in person, so I sent the message, "So when are you going to ask me out."  My mom and sister freaked out when I told them I'd be going on a date with a guy I met on the internet, but I had already set it up to doubl with my friend and her husband, so they at least stopped fearing for my life.

Saturday night arrived, and my friend's car broke down.  I drove to pick her up which made me late for our date.  Kirk arrived at my house before I did, despite the very confusing directions I'd messaged him.  (Apparently, my typo of living in a "long" house made it very difficult to find the "log" house I actually lived in.")  He had made friends with my dad before I even showed up for our date, and it was difficult to get him to leave the house.

After a very successful first date of bowling and pasta, we made plans to see each other again at the next day's regional conference which we were both supposed to be attending.  He came for dinner at my house afterward.  On Monday I met his family, and his dad knew instantly that I'd soon be a Fife.  On this night, Kirk told me he loved me.  I told him he didn't even know me.  Turns out he was right.

One week later, we spent a weekend in Logan visiting my friend Steph and her soon-to-be-husband.  There, Kirk asked me to marry him.  I told him I wasn't sure I could answer that question yet.  And hour later (after apparently lots of deep thought) I said yes.

The official proposal happened at my parents' house during one of our Thursday lunches.  (He would drive out to see me for my lunch break during a break between classes, but we were too poor to go out once a week.  So we'd go eat at my parents' house.)  I was busy making ramen noodles and turned around to grab something.  He was on his knee.  I thought he was teasing me about being short until I saw the ring.

Looking back, I'm certain we got married for all the right reasons.  Our courtship was so brief, our engagement so simple, I think it prepared us for the years ahead.  We've had a great nine years full of laughter and happiness and, of course, three children.  But we've had our share of really hard times, and we've also eaten plently of ramen noodles, both literally and figuratively.  Our life together is simple, but it is still based on the same things that drew us together in the first place.  We'll still eat ramen noodles together if that's what it takes to be together.  Kirk is still right most of the time.  We still have a hard time taking the serious stuff seriously.  Kirk still doesn't sing, and it's still okay with me.  And what's left of his hair is still black. 

Love you honey.  I'm so glad you have to put up with me for eternity.