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Ides

leeseventeen.jpgWe were born the same year and graduated from different high schools in 1989.

My husband claims I wouldn’t have looked at him if we had attended the same high school.

I wouldn’t have talked to him or given him the time of day. If he asked me to dance at a school-sanctioned late-1980s pastel-infested dance, I would have said, “Like no! Gaw!”

I maintain I would have recognized something in him—whatever quality attracted me to him in college would have been present in high school, but in a clumsier form.

Today is his 37th birthday. Being born on the Ides of March means being told to BEWARE! of it again and again by those who remember Caesar’s Bad Day and 10th grade English.

I think it’s a pretty lucky day, for me at least. On the day my husband was born, I was three months away from my own birth.

Mom, do you remember when I kicked you really hard on March 15, 1971?

Yeah.

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