Funny Guy Friday... Happy Birthday Weez!

    On Tuesday, I had a bad day, and was expecting it to carry over into Wednesday. As I was shaving, I looked into my mirror. Cheryl was standing next to me looking into her mirror. I looked at myself and mentioned to Cheryl that, Today is going to be a bad day! 
    She shrugged, and said that it is funny because when she looks in her mirror, she knows  that no matter what happens today, today is going to be a great day. 
    I told her that we need to switch mirrors.
    If you have read the last two weeks of FGF, you may have noticed that not much bothers my beautiful wife. Not even another birthday. Her birthday was this past Saturday.
     We went to Junior High School and High School together, but we were hardly High School sweethearts. In fact, neither of us can recall a time when we actually ever spoke to one another. We knew about each other, but did not know each other. When we talk about events that we attended, and things that we did, we realize that we did the same things---just not with each other.
    In fact, she was a cheerleader in Junior High School, and I was a basketball player, and she does not remember me. I point out that there were two white guys that played, and I was one of them. She says she remembers John Reilly, and I point out that he was the other white guy that played.
    I was voted Most Likely to Succeed in our last year of Junior High, and she says she does not remember that. She does, however, remember that she voted for Kenny Parisi. Nice guy; in fact, I bought her engagement ring from him.
    Before we were married, we attended our ten year High School reunion. As we entered the room, there was a copy of the Washington Post article about our undefeated State championship team, captained by yours truly. She stood and read the article, which included a photo of a good looking All-Met second baseman. Proudly, I stood and waited for her to tell me how great I must have been. When she got done reading, she turned to me and said Honey, did you know that we had a baseball team in high school!
    We got engaged after dating for only six weeks. I knew that I was going to marry her before we even went out on our first date. Remember in the movie The Godfather when Michael met the girl in Sicily, and immediately fell in love, and then he told the girl's father that he was going to marry her? That is our story, only Cheryl never got blown up.
     At the time, I had been dating another girl, and had to figure a way to break up with her and then ask Cheryl out. That girl called me after Cheryl and I got engaged, and to say that she was a bit upset would be a understatement. I suppose I was lucky I never got blown up.
     I went to talk to her parents before I asked her to marry me. Although they suspected that this would happen eventually, I am sure that they never expected it to happen after six weeks. Her sister thought I was there to ask advice about buying a house, which was kind of silly since I already had a house. Cheryl has asked what I would have done if her father had said no. I advised Cheryl that I never really asked; I just told them about my plans. Looking back, the whole thing was kind of crazy, but neither one of us ever had a doubt.
     On our wedding day, she had never looked more beautiful. In her typical fashion, she was completely relaxed and played Christmas music all morning---did I mention that we were married in April.
     We honeymooned in St. Barth's, an island in the French West Indies, full of topless and sometimes bottomless beaches. But I only had eyes for Cheryl---and a young girl named Vanina, on a boat called the French Kiss. Actually, it was Cheryl that pointed out that Vanina had dropped her top at about the same time that we had dropped anchor.
     I lost my wedding ring on our honeymoon, and it was the first time that I ever saw Cheryl get really upset about something. I told her that I would call Kenny, and have another ring ready to pick up as soon as we got off of the plane. That ring cost about $100, while the five-minute phone call from the French West Indies cost $80. It made her happy, so it was well worth it.
    Grace was born four years after we got married, then Matthew four years later, and then Noah four years after that. We were having kids every time that the country had a presidential election. What can I say, presidential politics is an aphrodesiac?---that, or we just got bored during the debates.
    Cheryl is the greatest mother in the world. This past summer, I was watching her as she leaned over to help Noah get a handle on a little problem he was having. I could not help thinking that I have never loved her more. She is totally devoted to the kids, and that is truly a beautiful thing to watch.
    Her sisters gave her the nickname of Clarice, as in Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer's girlfriend. That somehow got changed to Caweese, and then again to Weezer, or just Weez. Besides me and her sisters, nobody else calls her anything but Cheryl. Although occasionally our nephew Vincent calls her Auntie Weezer. Cheryl always points out that if she is Weezer, I am Geezer.
    But this week, she is the one that is a year older, a year better, a year more beautiful. Whenever I think of my life with Cheryl, I can't help but think that my Junior High School class was right, I did succeed. I don't have a successful jewelry store or anything like that, but I married pretty well.
    Happy birthday Weez!  I love you.