They say that the man of your dreams isn't going to show up on your door step. However, that's not entirely true. I'm not going to get all cheesy or anything and say Lucky is the man of my dreams and blah blah blah, but he did show up on my doorstep.
I groggily got out of bed (I was nine) and sauntered into the kitchen. Turns out my parents forgot to tell me the part about a carpenter *and* his son replacing the shag rug. Shit. There was a strange blue eyed boy in my living room and saw me in my nightie. Not cool.
What did I do? Did I use some sweet line or realize it was love at first sight? Nope. I ran and hid in my room. I don't even think I got his name.
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