Welcome to part IV of how the moosh came to be. Didn’t read parts I-III? Start here and work your way to today. NaBloPoMo is fluid like that. And I’m just lazy enough not to link.
MousekerReady! MousekerSet? Here we go! (SAHM’s, you totally got that one right?)
“So let’s make out!”
“Nope, I’ll only make out with my wife.”
“So let’s go to Vegas!”
“Nope, I’ll only marry a Mormon girl.”
OY! THE HOOPS!
So not only did I have to marry him to get him to make out with me, I had to become Mormon to get him to marry me in the first place. Sigh.
Where do I sign up?
It just so happens that in order to “sign up” into this little religion of mine it involves a few lessons from missionaries a commitment and a baptism. I found myself some missionaries and made the call.
“Hi, I need you to make me a Mormon.”
The missionaries showed up the next day and I started my quest for Cody. (Side note, it really helped that the missionary who showed up at my door was a smokin’ hottie. I see you Tim! Ashlee! HI!)
Anyone that knew me at this time in my life will know the change that happened in me. I went from being materialistically happy to honest to goodness happy. (Insert a whole other post here about my Testimony and conversion, while it’s important, very important in fact, it deserves its own space and time.) I started the whole conversion thing to get a boy into bed and there came a point where that wasn’t important anymore. (Well, as important. Heh.)
Lying in Cody’s lap one night he was talking about New York. His friends, the food, the weather and how he was going back the following year.
I told him I wished I could go to New York.
“Do you want to come with me?”
With that simple question I knew, I mean I KNEW, that this was who I was going to marry, have babies with and grow old with.
This is the part where I check if you’re still paying attention.
This crystallizing moment happened three weeks after I found out his name.
That was seven years ago, and we’ve been to New York twice.
I heart New York, and Cody.
To be continued…
Stay tuned for the next installment in how the moosh came to be. “Two weddings and a few dozen pounds make the world go round.”
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