Invariably, at one point or another, someone will ask a couple, whether they just started dated, just got engaged, just got married or have been married for a very long time, the question: “How did you two meet?”

I love listening to the answers to that question. There are so many different and interesting stories. My parents met while they were both working at McDonalds. As my brother likes to joke, my dad wooed my mom while flipping burgers. 😉 And my grandparents – now that’s a story. They met when my pepere and his best friend decided to crash a wedding to go dancing. He asked a pretty girl – my memere – to dance with him and well, the rest is history, as they say.

And now people ask me and Tyson the same question. I hadn’t even thought about how to answer this question until the first time we were asked it. We were sitting at table during Oneg after a service on Sabbath, a few months after we started dating. And then someone asked the question:

“How did you guys meet?”

Tyson and I looked our questioner and then at each other. My mind was scrambling to come up with a short but sweet explanation for the whole convoluted tale and came up with nothing.

Tyson chuckled. “Well, we’ve known each other since we were this high,” he said, holding his hand out to the height of a small child.

And so, that’s become my standard quick answer: we met when we were little kids and have known each other practically our whole lives.

I actually can’t remember the first time we met, it was so long ago. I’m told our mothers met through a mutual friend and all because they were interested in home-schooling. My older brother and Ty were the same ages, as were Tyson’s sister, Adeline, and I. I know the pairs of us siblings became fast friends: Matt and Tyson, Krista and Adeline.

My earliest memory of Tyson goes back to when I was about six or seven years old. My family came over to his for a visit and while the boys – he and Matt – went off to play outside, Adeline and I chose to stay inside to play. We had watercolor paints out on the kitchen table and had paintings spread all over the place. We were painting away in quiet contentment when the boys came inside to get something to drink. We ignored them as they poured themselves glasses of water and perhaps it was because we were ignoring them that Tyson decided to check out what we were doing. He stopped by the table, glass of water in hand, and watched as I brushed blue paint across the top of my paper for blue sky. I continued to ignore him, suddenly shy at someone watching me work. “Is *that* how you paint?” he asked.

“Yes,” I told him emphatically, stung just a bit by the incredulity in his tone, and returned to my painting.

He shrugged as he took another gulp of water before running back outside after my brother for more BOYS ONLY playtime.

Ah yes, there were hints of love in the air yet then. Or maybe not.

Still, we’re pretty much alike in how romance is lacking in both of our first recollections of each other. He remembers meeting my family, but doesn’t really remember me. My brother, he definitely remembers; he was so excited at the idea of meeting another boy his age that he never even noticed the little sister – who, I might add, was a little perturbed by the fact that she was not allowed to always tag along with the boys on their adventures. In fact, to add insult to injury, he didn’t like girls and wanted nothing to do with them outside the family.

Thankfully, if the current state of affairs are any indication, he has outgrown this tendency. It might have seemed to take forever, but it happened and well, here we are. Him and me, me and him, US.

And I can’t wait to see what happens next in the journey.