9/24/26

 Thought of the day

Happy anniversary to my better half, Mrs. Shife.
We will be celebrating #22 tomorrow.
She is awesome, and I am a lucky guy.

But it almost didn't work out, and here's why:

I slept with two dudes the night before I got married.

Man, it feels good to finally get that off my chest.

I’d pay good money to see your faces right now, or hear whatever just slipped out of your mouths.

Before anyone calls for an intervention, two quick disclaimers. First: Mrs. Shife knows. Second: the reality is vastly more innocent—and considerably more ridiculous—than it sounds.

Buckle up, friends. It’s storytime.

I spent my final night of bachelorhood at the University Inn in Moscow, Idaho.

Moscow is home to the University of Idaho, where I went to school and met the lovely Mrs. Shife. Since she grew up around there too, getting hitched in Moscow felt like the right way to kick off our life together.

Naturally, the night before the big day, I went out for a few drinks with my buddies at one of our old college haunts. But with the biggest day of my life looming, I played it smart. I called it an early night, walked back to the hotel, and hit the sack.

I need to emphasize one detail here: it was my room.

Single king bed. Just me, myself, and I.

At least, that was the working theory until sunrise.

I woke up locked in an involuntary cuddle sandwich. Flanked on both sides.

I didn't quite pull the full Steve Martin jump from Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, but it was definitely less "those aren't pillows!" and more pure, unadulterated "What in the actual hell is happening?"

There is nothing quite like waking up in a haze, expecting peace and quiet, only to find yourself spooning two grown men.

Fortunately, once my eyes adjusted, I recognized them. That was a relief, seeing as I was reasonably confident I hadn't ordered "two dudes" off the late-night room service menu.

They were two of the buddies I’d been drinking with earlier.

The immediate mystery, of course, was how they got in. I had the only key.

Turns out, hotel front-desk security at 2:00 AM isn't exactly Fort Knox.

When the bar finally kicked them out, they stumbled into the hotel lobby. One of them slapped the counter, claimed he was me, slurred something about losing his key, and the clerk just handed one over. No ID. No questions asked.

I remain convinced the alcohol fumes rolling off them temporarily hypnotized the night clerk. Less of an Obi-Wan Kenobi Jedi mind trick, more Captain Jack Sparrow stumbling into sheer dumb luck.

They let themselves in, saw an open mattress, and made themselves comfortable.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I slept with two dudes the night before my wedding.

Pretty scandalous, right?

Honestly, I think it might be a good luck charm. We’re staring down our 22nd anniversary, so whatever cosmic juju came out of that cuddle puddle, it clearly worked.

P.S. I originally wrote about this back in 2020, but a lot of you didn't even know me or this blog then, so I thought, let's share it again. 

P.S.S. The traditional and modern symbol for a 22nd wedding anniversary is copper, but I am a man who throws tradition out the window and got Mrs. Shife new brake pads instead. Unfortunately, her car needed some work done, so Happy Anniversary!! 

Meme dump

I will persevere.
I will keep moving forward.

I will be the stream.