How I Landed Superman… A LOVE STORY, kinda.

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I’ve known my husband since I was 15. We met in church. He always sat in the middle section in the second pew. My family sat in the left section in the middle pew on the occasions we went to church. I had a HUGE crush on him. Like doodle my first name with his last name on a notebook crush. You know, because I was fifteen. Thing was, I knew I’d never ACTUALLY date him. You see, Superman is eight and a half years older than I am. So when I was 15, he was 23. That sounds more like the beginning of a jail term, not a love story.

I had just given my life over to God. I was going to church every time I could and I couldn’t get enough. It also didn’t hurt that the was always there. My family didn’t go to church on Wednesday nights and I wanted to, but I didn’t have my driver’s license yet. Now, the church was visible from my front door, so I could just walk across a big field behind the Tractor Supply to get there and back. So every Wednesday, that’s what I did. One night he recognized that I was going to have to walk home in the dark, and he was having none of that. Being a total gentleman, he gave me a ride home. From then on, my parents made sure a nice couple in our church drove me home.  He always made a point to say hello to me and he treated me like a person, not a stupid teenager, which is how it seemed everyone else treated me.

Rabbit Trail: Every halloween, my church hosts a “Hallelujah Fest” where people can come have fun and hang out without all the halloween scary, evil mess. We were assigned the same blow up obstacle course that year. We raced and I broke my toe. I BROKE MY TOE. The big one. It hurt. A lot.

After a while, my family decided to go to a different church and I had to go with them, because we went to church “as a family.” They told me when I got my driver’s license I could go back to my church.

Fast forward two years. I was a senior in high school, I had just gotten my driver’s license. I finally drove to my church one Wednesday night. He wasn’t there. I was kind of sad. But I wasn’t there for him (He was just icing on the cake.) That weekend, I was helping out at the concession stands for a kids’ wrestling tournament. (I wrestled in high school.) Afterward, I went to Walmart before I went home to my grandmother’s house. It was Christmastime and I was in the electronics section looking around. That’s when I saw him. It had been two years. I didn’t remember his name.

Now, I was raised that girls don’t ask guys out. Girls don’t call boys. So, when I saw him, I just kind of made my way over to the aisle he was on. Then the next one he was on. Then the next one.

Y’all! For TWENTY MINUTES I followed him (less inconspicuously than I thought) around the electronic section of walmart, waiting for him to say something. 

That heifer never said one word. I was thinking, “You have GOT to be kidding me.” I looked FABULOUS that day. ( Six years later, he still remembers what I was wearing.) That joker knew I was stalking him. It had to be obvious. And he never said a word. After twenty minutes, I thought, “Fine. I’m leaving.” and started to walk off. As I was leaving, he grabbed my arm and said, “Hey!”

FINALLY, YOU FREAK! WHAT THE HECK TOOK YOU SO LONG? DON’T YOU KNOW I’M FABULOUS AND I’VE BEEN STALKING YOU???? 

I said, “Oh, hey! Long time no see! How ya been?” *feign surprise as if I had no clue he was there* Because I’m clearly that smooth.  Funny thing, neither of us remembered the other person’s name.

That night, he invited me to go to a movie with him and his friend. I told him I needed to ask my grandmother first, but I’d go drop my stuff in the car and call her. (I was 17, so still under curfew.) I had him put his info in my phone (because I didn’t know his name. Did I mention how smooth I was?) Once I confirmed with my grandmother, I texted him. He was walking out of the store and it was COLD. December 18th. So I gave him a ride to his car, which the genius had parked WAY over on the side of the store. And how did Mr. Smooth remember my name? THEY WERE ON MY FLOOR MATS IN MY CAR.

I had to pay for my own movie that night. I scrounged up change out of my car to pay for it. Like I said, SMOOTH. But, Superman likes to say that I haven’t paid for anything since.

Six years and two little girls later, I’m still just as smooth. And married. To the guy I stalked in Walmart.

Love to my loves,

Cate

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