Not long after I posted my blog on Monday the 6th, I ran across this snapshot of my husband and me (which I keep tucked in the mirror of my jewelry box lid), taken in 1986 when I was heavily pregnant with son #3. I remember the event: a cook-out with a bunch of other young officers from my husband's Navy squadron--most of them sporting the requisite Naval aviator's mustache--and their wives, where all the guys decided to come dressed in a uniform of Hawaiian shorts and knee-high tube socks. How madcap were those Naval aviators? But I think my husband looks so cute in this photo--although I think he would look great even if he was dressed in a potato sack. (Can you tell I love this guy?)
I've decided that this snapshot goes perfectly with Monday's post about the eventful day this man first asked me to be his girlfriend, when we were just a couple of crazy 15-year-old kids. Commemorating the 39th anniversary of that event has made me very, very nostalgic the past few days, thinking about our younger years!
Meanwhile, the latest Pearl reunion is in full swing, so I must go...
(I decided to be very efficient and wrote some posts ahead of time to save in "Drafts," because I knew I was going to be having too much fun this week to sit down and blog daily. I actually wrote this post on Monday afternoon, to save for today. And all I had to do was push the "Publish" button!)