in which my husband is cool

The first time Tyson drove me home from institute (compliments of Chantrelle’s mastermind plotting), he handed me his iPod and told me I could play whatever I wanted. It was kind of like Christmas had come early. I love going through people’s music libraries; it’s like them tearing a page from their diary and saying, “This is who I am.” When it’s the boy that you have a crush on that’s handing you his iPod, now that’s really something. I scrolled down to the V to see if he had my favorite band in there. He didn’t. That’s okay. I scrolled back up to the A, and started judging my future husband based on his music library.

As I scrolled through Tyson’s library, I found lots of Jack’s Mannequin and one Miley Cyrus song. I approved. I always thought that marriage would be an eternal sharing of each other’s iTunes libraries, so I was excited about all of the alternative rock that would be mine as soon as we got married. Granted, he hadn’t even asked me out yet, but you know, baby steps. First comes letting me pick a song from his iPod, then comes marriage. Isn’t that how the song goes?

Anyway, during that drive home, I managed to get us lost because the freeways in California are really confusing or something. Tyson later told me that he didn’t mind because it meant that he got to spend more time with me. As we got to my street, he asked me if I wanted to go get ice cream. I’m lactose intolerant, but I said yes anyway. We went to McDonald’s, and he took me to see the John Wayne airport lights because I’d once mentioned that I loved driving to the Imperial airport at night so I could see the lights. Are you swooning yet?

Since then, he has driven me home, I have driven him home, and now we drive to our shared home together. Still, nothing really compares to that first drive, the beginning of us. That night I realized that if our iTunes libraries could coexist happily, then so could we.

Lately, whenever we’re in the car, I feel like I’m at an Urban Outfitters, or somewhere else where I am not cool enough to be. The culprit: Tyson’s music choices. A song I don’t know will start playing, and I will look at him like, “Who are you, and when did you become so cool?!”

Do you want to feel like you’re not cool enough to be driving in your own car?

Here’s what we’re listening to:


One thought on “in which my husband is cool

  1. Pingback: the story behind the costume | b&t

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