Monday Ben and I marked our 13 year wedding anniversary. I tossed around several sentimental ideas for blog posts...but who am I kidding, I'm just not very sentimental. Or gushy. I love him, I think he's the best, and it's been a crazy-fast 13 years of goodness. It works for us.
Monday morning (anniversary day) I got a call from Ben while I was watching Jake at swim lessons (or as Jake calls them: Pool Lessons) that the cement guys had shown up. We both said to each other, "HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!" Seriously, it made our day.
That's how we roll.
Later that day, Ben was out chatting with the cement guys, and came in to tell me that it sounded like the foreman guy had an accent...it's no secret I'm totally enamored with accents.
Remember Julie? And while I'm sidetracked for a moment, did I tell you all that Julie is coming back from Norway to Iowa on August 1st to go to college near by me? Seriously, have I mentioned this, because I can't remember...
Back to the other story: So yesterday Ben was home on break and went out to talk to the cement guys again and I tagged along (because it would be weird for me to go chat it up all on my own, after all) so I could listen to his accent.
While him and Ben were discussing whether or not the old wall to the basement may or may not cave in, I couldn't help but blurt out, "Where are you from originally?!?"
I, in all my infinite knowledge of accents, was guessing it sounded Irish.
He's from Yugoslavia.
And he has quite the story of how he arrived in America...and it made me think (again) how everyone has a story. I just wish mine had a cute accent to go with it. ;)
That's my story.