Future Husband, It’s for the Scrapbook

Dear Future Husband,
I think it’s time you met my folks. I mean, you are going to have YEARS to really get to know them, but why not start now? It seems as though we have some time to kill.

We’ll start with my mother. And yes, I call her “mother.” She is in my phone as “mother.” I refer to her as “mother.” Go ahead and get used to it.

Anyhow, my mother LOVES to scrapbook. Like legit LOVES it. Loves it to a level that I cannot comprehend. When I joined my college sorority, I let her know (during my freshman year) that it was tradition for the mothers of the seniors to create a special memory book or video for their daughters that would then be shared with everyone during a chapter meeting before graduation.

My mother’s response:

“Why are you telling me this NOW?!”

Oh, but the response does not mean what you would think it means. She really meant, “Why are you telling me this NOW instead of on the very first day you even CONSIDERED joining a sorority…three full years to create a comprehensive commemorative scrapbook of your amazing life is NOT enough time!”

And then she went straight to work. Three years later, I was presented with the largest, most elaborate and, yes, interactive scrapbook I – or anyone for that matter – have ever seen. The thing literally MOVED. It flipped. It flopped. There were wheels that turned. There were hidden photos and secret compartments. You name it – it was there, and I love it. (I’ll show it to you on a future date.)

Fast forward a few years. I was on a cruise with my parents, and on the last night, the cruise staff put on a special show that ended with a confetti blast. My mother IMMEDIATELY dropped to her knees and began gathering the themed confetti. She looked up at me and implored, “IMA! Help me! I need it for the scrapbook!”

As the crowds dispersed, I quickly realized that my mother and I were joined on our quest to collect the discarded confetti by every child on the ship under the age of five…mother had no shame…I had a little.

PS. If you see me saving used napkins from our first dinner date, I promise I’m not weird…it’s for the scrapbook.

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, It’s for the Scrapbook

Future Husband, Where is your kind?

Dear Future Husband,

Being a woman of faith and having grown up in church, I’m very familiar (or as familiar as anyone can actually be) with the Biblical book of Revelation. And, yes…I’m aware of the signs of the “end of times” : wars, rumors of wars, natural disasters, disease, etc. However, I’m 99.999% sure that the rapture has NOT yet occurred. For one, I’m still here. For two, church was still pretty full on Sunday. For three, I called Sheesa…and she answered. (Sheesa is a missionary, so she’d DEF be gone.)

Therefore, I have to ask:

WHERE, DEAR LORD, ARE ALL THE SINGLE (educated and employed) CHRISTIAN MEN!?!

Surely, they MUST exist. I mean, seriously. It’s not like I’m searching for Loch Ness or Big Foot here. However, at this point, I’ll take a man with a long neck and/or big feet. I’m not that picky.

I HAVE, however, found pleeeeenty of guys with cross tattoos…which would, ironically, be OK with my “Southern Belle” self. But the accompanying eyebrow rings, wife beaters and chunky gold chains are just a bit too distracting for my taste. On second thought, maybe I am picky.

PS. I hope you’re currently enrolled in a 30-Something-Year-Old-Single Men’s Bible study because, once we we meet, I have some girlfriends who are going to want to meet others of your kind.

xoxo,
Ima Waitin (and I’m a prayin!)

Future Husband, Where is your kind?

Future Husband, It Got Weird

Dear Future Husband,
I went on a first date this weekend. Don’t worry, I know for a FACT it wasn’t with you.

It got reeeaaal weird. Dude smelled my hair. Twice. He also felt my arm muscle (or lack thereof) for ZERO apparent reason. Then he told me that for us to enter into any kind of relationship, I would have to agree to bear his children (adoption was not an option) and that we would be naming our first daughter Delilah. I prayed with everything in me that he wasn’t expecting to procreate on the first date…

And, can you believe we were out for hours in the middle of the day and he didn’t even suggest getting a snack, drink OR bottled water, much less lunch?! He did get parched, but you better believe we passed up 15 restaurants in search of – get this – a water fountain. No luck. He went thirsty, and I went starving (and slightly terrified).

PS. Please wait until at least the 3rd date to smell me.
PSS. Delilah is officially OFF the baby name list.

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, It Got Weird

Future Husband, Keep Your Chin Up

Dear Future Husband,
In my 31 years of life, I’ve come to realize there are two types of people: those with chins and those without. I’ll even go as far as to say that those with chins don’t even realize there is an alternative. I, however, fall in the chinless category.

Now, let me be clear. I DO, in fact, have a chin. However, it gets a little camera shy when someone – anyone – looks at me from the side. I have no idea where it goes, and it has yet to make an appearance in any of my side profile pictures. What’s that you say? You’ve never seen any side profile pictures of me? You are correct. It’s because I don’t have a chin.

To illustrate my point, I’ll tell you a short story.

I was asked to be “talent” in a photo shoot for work one day. (PS. Talent means model…your future wife is hot stuff). As the producer was overseeing my hair and makeup, she looked at me and paused. She then walked over, bent down to my level and gently said the following:

“Uh, Ima…I’m going to need you to accentuate your chin for some of these shots.”

And then we practiced ways for me to literally poke my chin out. Trust me, while it may work from the side, it is NOT a good look from the front.

But here’s what I have yet to figure out: Wedding photos.

I’m very aware that we will probably face each other for most, if not all, of our ceremony. And, I’m quite certain the photographer will go about his/her business and snap, snap, snap those photos, only to find out in post production that the chinless folk DO exist.

But I guess it could be worse. My chin could RSVP with a plus one and bless me with a double. Either way, I hope the photographer is proficient in photoshop.

PS. If you ever tell me to “keep your chin up,” you will IMMEDIATELY regret it.

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, Keep Your Chin Up