Happy Funday Monday

Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. This blog has officially been hijacked. Loose lips sink ships as they say, and using my persuasive powers and hypnotic masculine charms, I, one of the aforementioned "Boys," have extracted high level security information from Amber, enabling me to post on this blog with impunity. Mwah hah hah hah hah!

Ok, ok, I'll reveal my secret sinister identity---this is Josh, and I'm posting to remind Amber, and the whole internet (or at least those of you bored enough to be reading this) that today is the 11th annual Funday Monday (not to be confused with National Pot Day, which also happens to be today according to Google).

Eleven years ago today, Amber and I were finishing up our freshman year at BYU. We had just begun to fall in love against our better judgment---I was leaving on a mission in a few months, and Amber was moving on to greener pastures of manly returned missionary-ness---but prudent or not, we had been spending a lot of time together and loving every minute.

On this particular Monday, neither of us had any final exams. Amber's family was in town to take her back to CO after school was done. With nothing else to do (who could study with someone as distracting as Amber around?), we spent the day with her family, along with Colleen Coffey-Smith (now Stutz) who had been a great facilitator and encourager of our budding romance. We hiked the Y with Amber's Dad (Paul) and brothers Tim and Scott. Scott was four at the time and rode up the trail most of the way on Paul's shoulders.

Later that afternoon, Colleen, Amber and I went up to Rock Canyon park and rolled down the hills until we were dizzy, grass-stained and sick to our stomachs.

Then, Paul and Jackie (Amber's Mom) went out to dinner for their anniversary, so Amber and I watched Tim and Scott. We ate dinner at the Morris Center during which Amber and I flirted by smearing ketchup on each other's faces. Tim and Scott were too young to think such flirting was gross, and thought we were hilarious. We walked down to the Wilkinson Center, with Scott on my shoulders (what a freeloader!) and used our excess Dining Plus money to buy peanut butter Moo'd Zuka Juices for everybody. Then we went back to Deseret Towers and played laser tag, using some guns and targets I got for Christmas. We had a blast, and I got huge "hotness" points for being fun with Amber's little bro's.

When Amber's folks came back, she convinced them that it would be a good idea for them to let her drive me to the Timp Temple in American Fork so we could walk around it. Colleen had prepped me for the experience earlier in the day saying "Amber is going to take you to the Timp Temple tonight, and this would be a great time for you to hold her hand or kiss her!" Kissing seemed out of the question, but I had been dying to hold Amber's hand for days, though I hadn't been able to build up enough courage to go for it. I decided that it was now or never. We got out of the car and started walking around the Temple. And I chicken'd out. Amber, bless her heart, knew what was up and kept making sure her hand was very available, and I still couldn't bring myself to do it. We must have been talking about something, but I have no idea what---I just wanted to hold that hand! Finally, when we were three-quarters of the way around, I, with all the suaveness I could muster, said "Oh, you're cold? Here, let me hold your hand." It came out as a high-pitched croak, but her fingers were soon happily intertwined with mine, and nothing else seemed to matter.

Having held hands for all of three minutes, we returned to the van, and drove back to the hotel where Amber's folks were staying. It was about 10 pm at this point, and Amber's Mom offered to drive us back to BYU (which was a nice, inviting 15-minute walk away). Here is a brief summary of the conversation that ensued:

Jackie: Do you want me to drive you guys back to campus?

Amber: No, that's OK. We can walk.

Me (to myself): Woo hoo! More hand-holding! Let's go, let's go, let's go!

Jackie: Are you sure? It's really no problem.

Amber: Mom! (wink, wink) I said WE'LL WALK.

Jackie (with dawning realization): Ohhhhhhhhh. OK, sounds good, have fun, bye! (closes door)

So, we had another glorious fifteen minutes of hand-holding to ourselves and then the first Funday Monday was over.

The next day Amber finished her exams, and her folks hauled her kicking and screaming back to Colorado, while I was left trying to study for chemistry tests through tear-filled eyes (no joke!). Neither of us knew what would happen next, or that in 11 years, we'd be married, have three of our own little boys, and still be trying to find 15 minutes to ourselves for hand-holding. But each year, we've celebrated our annual Funday Monday in commemoration of the Y-hiking, hill-rolling, ketchup-smearing, laser-tag playing, hand-holding date that started it all.

Happy Funday Monday!

And Am, you might want to think about changing your password!