Looking For A Husband – Epilogue – Right Man, Wrong List

Let me tell you about the list.

Not the grocery list, not the salon supply order, not the business loan checklist I made that I still have framed in my office because I am that kind of person. The husband list. Seven items, written on a Saturday morning with a hangover and the specific confidence of a woman who has decided that love is just logistics with better lighting.

I was so sure about that list.

I was so wrong about that list.

The man I married is three years younger than me – item one, failed. Same height – item two, failed. Has a hobby that is, technically, a dog – item three, debatable at best. Went to bed at midnight on a work night for the entire first year we dated – I’m still processing that one.

He also walked into my salon in a rainstorm thinking it was a vet clinic.

It is not a vet clinic. It has a sign. A large one. He had glasses on. They were wet, but still.

I laughed so hard I snorted, which is not my best sound, and he stood there dripping on my freshly mopped floor holding a golden retriever who looked equally done with the whole situation, and I thought: absolutely not, this is not the man, this is a weather event with a dog.

Reader.

I married the weather event.

But before I get to Sam, I need to tell you about Reez.

And Jack.

And Bob – god, Bob – and the hiking trips I went on despite having the athletic enthusiasm of a decorative throw pillow, and the Tinder profile my friends helped me write that described me as spontaneous which is the single biggest lie ever committed to a dating app.

I need to tell you about the bet, the list, the plan, and the complete and total failure of all three.

Because here is the thing nobody tells you about finding the right person: you can build a business from nothing, run a team, manage a loan, and coordinate twelve clients on a Saturday without breaking a sweat – and then a man walks in out of the rain with wet glasses and a dog that doesn’t need a trim, and every plan you ever made just quietly gets up and leaves the room.

The list had seven items.

He failed five of them.

I have never been happier to be wrong in my entire life.

This is how it happened.