Because most philosophies that frown on reproduction don't survive.

Friday, December 05, 2008

I Remember MrsDarwin: Can't Trust This! Edition

Happy birthday to me!

Turns out that many historic events have transpired on December 5, but the other 30-year contender isn't really an upper:
1978 - The Soviet Union signs a "friendship treaty" with the Democratic Republic of Afghanistan.
Boo to that, but hurray for the 75th anniversary of the repeal of Prohibition! And the 217th anniversary of the death of Mozart!

And now comes the part you've all been waiting for: our annual installment of I Remember MrsDarwin.
If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don't speak often, please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL MEMORY OF YOU AND ME.

It can be anything you want--good or bad--BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.

When you're finished, post this paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON'T ACTUALLY remember about you.
Want to know how it's done? Check out the egregious falsehoods from years past:
I Remember MrsDarwin 2007
I Remember MrsDarwin 2006
I Remember MrsDarwin 2005

(Confidential to Big Tex: I'm old but you're older. Happy birthday, you big lug!)


Anonymous said...

I remember that one time when Mrs. Darwin and I went to go see the premire High School Musical 3! Oh! It was so wonderful! We wore prom dresses and bought the comemorative popcorn buckets and drooled over the dreamy zac efron the ENTIRE time! OMG OMG HE IZ SOOOOO HAWTT!!!

(Happy Birthday you old crone. Here's to some memories that we are thanking God never happened. ;) Cheers.)

Kiwi Nomad said...

I remember meeting Mrs Darwin on the Camino in Spain, many times as it happened. We were both 'tortoises' and liked to take it slower than some others. So we often met in the evenings in the same albergues, and then would shoot off to a local restaurant and enjoy the varied (NOT!) pilgrim menu. Mrs Darwin was a real pro at fixing blisters and her skills were much in demand with the 'No pain no glory' brigade who walked further and faster than us. My favourite memory of Mrs Darwin was when we stood on the top of O'Cebreiro, in brilliant sunshine, and even after the climb to the top, she couldn't resist performing a jig!

Paul, just this guy, you know? said...

I remember the time when Mrs. Darwin backed her SUV into my Miata in the parking lot of the movie theatre in Pflugerville. I guess all the kids had distracted her at a crucial moment.

But nobody was hurt, we were both cool about it, and her insurance company took care of the damage.

Anonymous said...

Way back in Jr. High School, Mrs. Darwin and I were ever so curious about what the boys' bathroom looked like. It was mysterious forbidden territory donchaknow. So one summer, we were in the school for a band rehearsal, and no one else was around right then,and we snuck into the downstairs west boys' bathroom and found ourselves locked in -- the IN door was unlocked, but it only opened inward and had no handle on the inside, and the OUT door was totally locked and immobile. We had to fit our (fortunately long and strong) fingernails into the gap between door and jamb and dig in a little and sweat and strain to pull the door open. Definitely not worth the knowing. I'm not certain, but that might have been the night Mrs. D. drank her first 6-pack. I know I did.

Anonymous said...

The Blackadder Says:

You probably wouldn't remember our first meeting, given that a) you were a child, and b) this was during the period in which I was disguised as King George IV (back while he was still the Prince Regent, of course).

Rick Lugari said...

Remember when I replied to this last year and you laughed so hard you wet yourself. Darwin still complains to me about the pee stain on his favorite chair.

Happy Birthday you old bag!

Anonymous said...

I recall our trip to old Mexico. We were walking the streets of Nuevo Laredo, when some guy selling prescription drugs came up to us. You bought some and we were eventually separated. That was the last time I saw you. Glad to see you are alive and well.

Some things get better with age, like a good single malt scotch, or a fine wine, or ME! Happy birthday, kiddo.

The Opinionated Homeschooler said...

How could I forget babysitting for the future Mrs. D, the evening of her fifth birthday? How that girl loved her MTV! They'd been playing 'Thriller' in heavy rotation for three days, and she insisted on moonwalking on the coffee table--slipped--did a bellyflop onto the sofa arm--threw up birthday cake all over the white slipcover.

I told 'A Philosopher' the whole story at school the next day. How we laughed.

Anonymous said...

My dear Mrs. Darwin,

I have such fond memories of the day that you and I shopped, lunched and laughed at The Domain with our eight docile children. We agreed that it's vitally important to stay up to date on the latest fashions and trends being offered at humble boutiques such as Saks Fifth Avenue and Neiman Marcus. Ladies cannot be expected to live on homeschooling, homekeeping, husband-loving and church-going alone. Oh, Mrs. Darwin, you do have impeccable taste! I'm so glad you agree that money is no object when it comes to such things. Happy birthday! It's such fun to be friends with a lady who lunches.

Anonymous said...

John Brooks says:

Mrs. Darwin,

I'm a little late coming to this, but you must tell me some day how you got out of police custody after we were separated at the WTO protests in Seattle. Free trade must die. Never give up.

Happy (belated) birthday!

j. christian said...

Hey, John! Were you there, too? I remember when I met Mrs. D. for coffee over on Seneca St. We were discussing Chomsky and she was getting all fired up about Palestine. Man, those were the days. (When do you think she's gonna come clean to Mr. D. about her politics?)

mrsdarwin said...

You guys! You're going to blow my cover, and after all the work the Witness Protection guys put into it!

Anon -- you had me going, right up into the long and strong fingernails. Alas, I've bitten mine to the nubs since I was seven, and that's why my girls get their hands slapped whenever I see them start to gnaw a nail.

Darwin said...

Well, since no one else has risen to that bait (given she's now thirty and all), I'll go ahead and reveal when I first realized I couldn't trust MrsDarwin. Coincidentally, it was the first time I spoke to her.

I'd seen her before, of course. In my first semester Freshman year we were both in an 8:00AM Econ 101 class. She was the one who came in without a shirt one morning, and then suddenly ran screaming from the room. (She claimed afterward she'd been dreaming; but I've always suspected this was some kind of drama-major guerrilla theatre.)

But I digress.

She called me up one evening in my room and said, "Hi, there, handsome. It's me. Are you doing anything?"

The conversation was starting to go really well when after five minutes she realized she had a wrong number and hung up.

Not to be so easily discarded I got my buddies Rick and Tex together, and (being engineering types) they rigged up a speed dialer board and we called every number in the college sequentially until we found her. She hung up immediately, of course, but after a few weeks of persistence on my part she said some words that gave me hope.

"What's wrong with you anyway? Creep."

After that she hung up again, but I knew I was getting through.

Of course we did end up going out in the end, and the rest is history. You may be wondering how it is that this taught me that I couldn't trust her.

The answer is simple, though I didn't find it out until a bit later: She hadn't called by accident.

When I asked her why she'd made things so difficult for me, the only explanation I could get was, "Well, when it finally worked out you valued it, right?"

Anonymous said...

I remember the day that Mrs Darwin invited me to join her as a member of the League Of Annoying Heroes.

This was some time after she revealed (to me only of course) that she was in reality, that costumed crime buster known as: Infernal Racket Girl (I think she refers to herself as Infernal Racket Woman now).

Those where the days, I was know as the Amazing Artichoke and we used to hang out with Captain Condiment and his trusty sidekick Cheddar Cheesepuff, an awful lot.

Nothing lasts forever of course and you all know the story of how Infernal Racket, I mean, Mrs Darwin, left the League after she married her former arch nemesis: Spoiled Milkman....Now reformed and known as Mr Darwin.

Darwin said...

Ah, count on old Artichoke to let the secret out.

Of course, this explains why we now live with three young infernal racket girls and one little boy who often smells of milk...

Anonymous said...

Few know that Mrs. Darwin was reading on a second grade level when she entered kindergarten (this part is true). However, we have tried to keep it a secret all these years that, as narrator of the kindergarten play at the end of the school year, she proceeded to give her own rendition of "The Ugly Duckling", adding lots of jive and 4 letter words. Needless to say, she was kicked out of school, forcing us to homeschool the little so and so.... We still love you dear, Happy 30th.

Kyle Cupp said...

I would have written about Mrs. Darwin's and my days as child assassins operating in Beirut, but the government wiped my memories. Still have disturbing dreams, though.

CMinor said...

Can't think of a thing, so echoing Kyle's excuse seems prudent. Happy belated and welcome to the over-the-hill gang, anyway!

Anonymous said...

I met you at the playground. You were six and I was seven. I was spinning you around one of those things that spin around which I don't think exist anymore due to lawsuits and vomit (pardon the redundancy). You flew off but you were okay. In fact, everyone used to fly off those things.

Years later, I saw you doing the limbo at a party while I discussed Limbo with an amateur theologian. I watched you out of the corner of my eye and every now and then I'd offer a "how low can you go!".

I think you chose the better limbo.

mrsdarwin said...

Anon, that was a good party. Theologians and margaritas = always entertaining.