"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: It goes on." Robert Frost

Tomorrow will be the 1 year anniversary of when I got engaged. Ahhh, I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember studying for a test (I ended up failing), I remember my dad calling me an asshole...the memories. I will cherish them forever. Picture it: A long-haired brunette marries a bad boy. The vehicle for the wedding? A giant pick up truck. Her wedding ring: Platinum, of course. His? Steel. Country music was played at the reception. Their backstories: She was engaged once but broke it off. He had been married previously. She had dogs, he had kids.

The bride's thought on marriage? A quote direct from her: "I've always been very skeptical about marriage, because I only want to do it once; I want to do it the right way." Name that couple... Sandra Bullock and Jesse James. I know, I know, you were gonna say it was me (for the record, hers was a giant, red Monster truck; mine was my dad's big white Dodge Ram). But my point is this: She gave a guy the benefit of the doubt the rest of us didn't. Unfortunately, we were right. It does make me wonder, though, what kind of boyfriend he was? At the very least, we can assume he was a convincing "good" boyfriend. I bet he even provided the first toothbrush she left at his place (I'm guessing). The reason I bring this up is because my sister and I had a discussion about how I am the ultimate bad boyfriend. Okay, let me explain: As you all know, my sister lives in Arizona. The rest of us are in Pennsylvania. My mom goes out to visit at least quarterly and as a result, she ends up leaving personal items behind so she doesn't have to pack so much on her trips. Over the years it has graduated from a toothbrush to make-up, pajamas to regular clothes - pants, shirts, shoes...you name it. I live about 2 hours away from my folks. It is a comfortable distance. My sister asked me once how much crap my mom has left at my place. I thought about it and said, "Well...she left socks behind once and I gave them back." And that's when I realized there had been several times my mom left some things behind and I, in a completely oblivious move, made damn sure she got her things back. No pajamas, no socks...is that a brush? Not in my house! In my defense, I didn't realize what was going down. I thought I was doing a good thing by giving her stuff back. I mean, socks...how many pairs does one person have? Maybe she needed them! I don't want to be blamed for my own mother going sockless. And pajamas... really people, I thought she was being a smartass by leaving them in the hamper. Kinda like a 'Hey kid, now it's YOUR turn to wash MY pajamas for a change." So...uh, yeah, I think it's a safe assumption that if I'm a bad 'boyfriend' to my own mother, I would be a total douchebag to date (if I were a guy). Crazy.