Future Husband, Don’t Mess with the Dino

Dear Future Husband,
It’s almost October, which means it’s almost the month of my birth. As a result, I think this is a GREAT time to tell you about my dinosaur obsession.

That I had when I was three years old.

Actually, that I had when I was two-and-three-quarters-years-old and in the midst of birthday party planning.

I have NO idea where my dino love originated, but my toddler self made it 100% clear to my mother that I wanted a dinosaur-themed shindig. And, of course, as the sole center of my mother’s world (Sheesa was still in the womb at this time), she (probably questioningly) obliged.

So, my mother and I meandered to the one and only (and incredibly expensive) party store in town to collect dino napkins, plates, party bags and any other prehistoric elements we could find. The perusing was going well UNTIL something bright and colorful caught my eye: the piñata aisle.

I have to admit, my two-and-three-quarters-year-old self did not truly understand the meaning of “theme” and couldn’t comprehend that piñatas didn’t belong in the mesozoic era. ALL I knew was piñatas were pretty. And I wanted one – a DINOSAUR one.

Now, I have to hand it to my mother. This was long before the days of Etsy and online shopping (and the Internet in general), so you couldn’t just surf the web to find whatever item you wanted themed to whatever theme you wanted. You either bought what was available OR made it at home (with no step-by-step Pinterest guide). Well, there wasn’t a dinosaur piñata to be found, so the crafting began.

I actually remember making that paper mache brachiosaurus piñata on the kitchen table. We soaked strips of newspaper in glue and then covered a balloon with SO. MANY. LAYERS. Then, we attached toilet paper rolls for the legs and paper towel rolls for the neck and tail. And finally, painted it green. It was spectacular.

As I OOOed and AWWWed over my BEAUTIFUL dinosaur, my mother, in THAT moment, had a disturbing revelation: Her two-and-three-quarters-year-old daughter had absolutely ZERO idea what the fate of that piñata would be…

So, she sat me down and explained that we were going to beat my beautiful and perfect dinosaur to a pulp with sticks until it bled candy.

Just kidding.

I’m clearly a well-functioning adult, so I’m sure she found a less violent and traumatic explanation. But, the point being – I got the point.

My mother says that my eyes got SUPER big, and I ADAMANTLY stated that “NO ONE was going to hit MY dinosaur with a stick!”

So, after ALL that, there was no dinosaur piñata at my third birthday party. But there WAS a beautiful brachiosaurus table centerpiece.

PS. The minute my party was over, I outgrew my dinosaur obsession. You’re welcome. Or, pending your love for dinos, I’m sorry.

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin

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Future Husband, Don’t Mess with the Dino

Future Husband, Don’t Be Late

Dear Future Husband,
You were almost too late. I think I almost got hitched.

Let me explain.

I travel A LOT. Traveling is one of my passions, and I do it as frequently as I possibly can. (It would be wise to apply for a passport now, you’re going to need it once we meet.)

On one of my last trips, I found myself in the Caribbean. Side note: people are very friendly in the Caribbean – and talking about one’s love life with a complete stranger is apparently 100% completely acceptable.

My trip was coming to an end, and a very nice gentleman offered to give me a ride to the airport (don’t worry, while he was a stranger to me personally, he was also an established business acquaintance…I don’t get in the car with COMPLETE strangers…unless it’s Uber). Riding in silence during our commute was NOT an option, and he made very good use of the time by asking me a million questions about myself. Now, I’m not super outgoing at first, but I appreciated his friendliness, so I engaged in the conversation. But then, he went for the jugular and asked, “Are you married?”

To which I replied “Uhm, No.”

I thought he was going to STRAIGHT UP stop the car.

“WHAT?! You’re not married? WHY EVER NOT? You just don’t want to be? Turned all the guys down? How old are you?”

Oy vei.

I kept my cool, decided to take his astonishment as a compliment and politely explained that I just hadn’t found the right one at the right time.

At that moment, this stranger of a gentleman realized that he, in fact, KNEW the right one – his cousin Stuart – and decided to give him a call. Right then. Right there. Timing is everything…

I sat in bewilderment as this man called Cousin Stuart and proceeded to tell him that he was sitting in a car with a pretty single girl, and he thought that the two of us would be a GREAT match. The only problem was that he was taking this gal to the airport, so Stuart would probably have to make a trip to the United States for the first date.

Funny, right? I thought so too…until he HANDED ME THE PHONE. WHAT?!?!?!

So, I talked to Cousin Stuart. I thought he was going to apologize for his cousin’s forwardness and the unavoidable awkwardness that was this situation, but no. Cousin Stuart apparently COMPLETELY trusts his cousin because he was 100% onboard with this set up. He expressed his disappointment that I was leaving that day and invited me back to the islands so that he could personally show me around. Finally, he asked if could take me out the next time he was in the United States.

I told him “Sure…just look up Ima (last name omitted) on Facebook and you should be able to find me.”

Apparently that worked for him, and I was able to END the conversation.

In that moment, I was IMMENSELY grateful that I had failed to mention to my friendly chauffeur that my flight wasn’t leaving for another seven hours…as I’m pretty sure that would have given the eager duo ample time to arrange the wedding before takeoff.

PS. I’m avoiding the Caribbean until we meet…don’t want to take any chances.
PSS. I have to travel to the Caribbean for work, so please come soon…

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, Don’t Be Late