where wildly different is perfectly normal


Score: a group or set of twenty or about twenty
Score: a written representation of a musical composition showing all the vocal and instrumental parts arranged one below the other
Score: to succeed in seducing someone

So what does all this mean?

Score + score + score = Tom and I met at band camp twenty years ago this week.

I’ll let that sink in for a moment.

Yes, twenty years ago this week, as a naïve and very young college girl, I met the man who would become my husband a short three years later. I was young. Very, very young. Eight, maybe nine. Because there’s no way the real numbers can be correct. It’s not possible that I’m spitting distance to a birthday ending in zero and that I’ve been with this man half my life. Nope, not possible.

Sigh. Yeah, possible. Proof positive even. I have pictures:

me and tom

Ok, technically this wasn’t taken at the Bands of America Summer Symposium where we met, but a few months later. When he was my TA. He only had to recuse himself once, on a final he was supposed to grade.

Oh how time flies when you’re raising kids moving cross country twice changing careers several times surviving multiple midlife crises a week having fun. I’d kinda like the next twenty to go a helluva lot slower, because those numbers are really unpleasant. Better than the alternative, yes, but I still feel like that nineteen nine year old gal in the picture up there. Well, except for the permanent mental and emotional anguish that’s delivered with the first blowout diaper, aching knees, and a greatly diminished sense of endless possibility. Other than that I feel juuuust the same.

Twenty years. Blows my mind.

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