Diggin' Up Bones

Best Christmas present EVER:

I promise I'm not as weird as you're thinking I am.

I think it's safe to say that, while my parents like country music, they weren't exactly putting earphones to my mom's Casey-belly hoping I'd come out loving Randy Travis (or to her Heather-belly wishing for a Kenny Rogers fan, or even the Ben-belly with fingers crossed for a Ray Stevens and Arlo Guthrie enthusiast, for that matter). But for some strange reason he appealed to me as a little girl. Go figure.

My parents have a recording of toddler me singing along to a Randy Travis tape. "Diggin' Up Bones" was my favorite. I had no idea what neglige meant (though it's hilarious to hear a four-year-old say it) and "exhuming" became "zoomin" in my early childhood phonetic interpretation. A gold star is definitely in order for my attempt to be both Randy and the back-up singers at the same time. I just couldn't get enough of Randy, even if I couldn't quite say my Rs yet.

I haven't listened to Randy Travis in years and, despite my childhood obsession, I've never had more than that old, forgotten cassette stowed in a box somewhere at my parents' house. Until this Christmas, when they gave me his greatest hits. 

Jordan and I drove to Alexandria on New Year's Eve (nothing like going to a Best Buy to celebrate the New Year) and I made him listen to Randy: two discs, one each way. Swoon, I know. After about the first five songs he was thinking that they all sounded about the same, but we both got a kick out of the fact that I still remember the words after all this time. That's one of the most entertaining things about being married: it seems there is an endless supply of quirky traits and childhood memories to spring on each other. Although I did have a moment of regret when he started belting "I Told You So" the next day when he was right about something.

Thanks for humoring me, Babe. "My love is deeper than the holler." Thanks to Mom and Dad for bringing Randy back. You never know when you're going to need him.