I am feeling a bit wistful tonight, so please bear with me. On this date 35 years ago the former Mrs. Translator and I were married. I was 20 and she was 19. We had both been in relationships before, but as soon as we met we knew that we were going to be special to each other.
I was at a friend’s house one afternoon and a powder blue 1976 Camaro pulled into the driveway. I do not recognize the car. It pulled up to where my friend and I were and driving it was the most beautiful girl that I ever saw.
She was my “type”. Petite, with long, dark, hair that had just enough natural curl. Her voice was not shrill, but not masculine either. As Goldilocks would say, it was just right. I was 18 and she was 17. It was not what is termed “love at first sight”, but we were immediately attracted to each other.
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