Busy raising my first child, I thought little about the one that was coming. I didn't sing a special song that would be just for me and the new baby. No, my new baby would have to be content with the songs I sang with his older brother.
I say something I never should have said. Something that I find it hard to believe I said. Something that I'm still sorry and embarrassed and ashamed I said. "What are you," I say, "a lesbian or something?"
We exchanged phone numbers and said our goodbyes, and he disappeared around the corner. As I slowly made my way home, I relived every moment of this magical evening. He could be my soul mate, I thought. Will I ever see him again?
When my kids were little, they used to love hearing the story of how my husband and I met. I told them we were in kindergarten and we were having lunch in the sandbox. Instead of pulling my hair to get my attention, he dropped my peanut butter and jelly sandwich into the sand.
In today's world of smartphones and texting and tweeting, we might very well fool ourselves into believing that instant gratification can also apply to matters of the heart. If I can send and receive communication immediately, why can't I be in love with or love someone immediately?
I may have experienced what others for centuries have been referring to as "love at first sight" that day in the patisserie. I'm pretty sure I don't believe in that, but it was like the minute I laid eyes on this man, I just knew he was going to change my life forever -- and he has.