So the other day, I posted about it being sweater weather (in which I failed to mention that I'm wearing a sweater that I saw Abbie Rufener wearing last year and which I bought because of how great it was). Also, there was an opportunity at work for me to get a sample bag that I had helped develop (I did the lining for it). I thought it would make a nice surprise for Murray's mom, who's the greatest.
Later that night, when I saw Murray's mom, she told us that Tuesdays were "Ross" day (she loves shopping) and she had bought me a sweater in honor of sweater weather. So I gave her the bag I got her from work. And then we basked in the joy that was our own mini-Christmas.
It reminded me of my third date with Murray whereat we both showed up with gifts. It's so nice when fate works out that way---that you both choose the same day to give a spontaneous gift. What if I had waited one more date to give Murray the commemorative magnets I gave him? He would have thought that I was giving them out of obligation. Same with the sweater and bag---had I waited another day, Murray's mom might have thought that I was giving her a bag because I felt I needed to. Sometimes, things just work out perfectly.
When I told El Senor about the sweater, he said: "You suck. Life is handed to you on a silver platter."
If "life is handed to you on a silver platter" means "you're getting really good in-laws" he's right. It's not surprising that Murray is so sweet considering the family he comes from. We spend a lot of time with his parents and his brother and brother's girlfriend. When I am down for the weekends or on weeknights, I sleep at their house instead of driving home late at night. This gives opportunities for pajama parties. Who doesn't like a good pajama party? And on Sundays, we all have Sunday dinner together. This cracks me up: Not too long ago, the two unmarried sons would come home every week for Sunday dinner. (Murray's three sisters have all been married for years.) And as I understand it, conversation would often turn to dating and marriage, etc. Now, the sons are both attached and Sunday dinners have suddenly become a party. I can't imagine what would ever make parents happier.
There's some discussion of what everyone's blog name will be (the brother, Steve, is settled), and some day I may have to tackle the job of making everyone into a cartoon. We'll figure that all out as we go along.