The Memory Box

Taking a cue from one of my favorites husband/wife duo’s out there, Amy & Jordan who share stories from their life in “The Pink Slip Files”, (where they keep slips of paper with memories in a vase), Dustin and I decided to do this ourselves, because memories are fleeting and there are just so many things we can’t let fade away. So with that being said, I’ve decided to share little stories from our life. I feel like it’s not personal enough on the blog so I want to change that up! It’s our hope that you can learn more about us with these stories, after all – life is one giant story and we naturally want to tell it, so why not?

1: Mud Slinging
2: The Delivery Man

A few days after our honeymoon, we boarded a plane for New York City. We had decided to spend a few days there before catching a train over to Richmond, Virginia where we would spend a solid week together – enjoying newlywed bliss and visiting historic sites throughout Virginia (what can I say? I married a Historian…)

I coughed throughout the flight, and Dustin said he felt like he was burning up. We thought that we just needed to sleep, that as soon as we got a good night’s rest we would be ready to rock but as soon as we got to our hotel right off of Central Park West, we knew the truth of what was ailing us, THE FLU. Dustin was laying on our bed, cursing whomever came to the wedding that was sick and that we should “mainline purell so we could go out.”

Three days later, we had yet to leave our hotel room because of how sick we were. We ordered Chinese all three days because it was the only place that I knew had decent food nearby and would deliver. I didn’t feel like testing the waters and adding food poisoning to our list of ailments for the week.

There was one delivery man for this restaurant, he brought our food to us in the fourth floor walkup each night. And each night, as I opened the door (with an apologetic face because I’m sure we looked pathetic) and each time he said the same thing “Your soup is hot, let it cool down first”. I thought he was odd at first but by the third night I beat him to it and said “The soup is hot, but really good. I’ll let it cool down for sure.” He stopped and nodded, then said. “I dropped your can of coke, let it sit.” And he walked away.

He had to beat me.

We felt a little better the next day and decided to go out and get an actual meal for dinner but I received a phone call from the restaurant asking if we were alive because “Sun Yin hasn’t gotten your order for today and he’s worried”.

We felt a mixture of love and embarrassment because we knew we had ordered WAY too much Chinese food, but his concern was touching. I responded, “Mrs. Chen, we’re good. Tell Sun Yin not to worry,” she laughed and said “Good luck. We’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Again. Embarrassing.

We ended up canceling our portion of the trip to Virginia, because we were too sick to enjoy NYC and because there was a good chunk of ice on the drive (my sick self did not want to deal with driving through that at all). We had an amazing time but to this day, I randomly will remind Dustin that the soup is hot and to let it cool, which is usually met with a dirty look and the line of “we should have mainlined the purell, I never want to be that sick again.”


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