(Disclaimer: We do not recommend our grandchildren follow in any of our foolish footsteps and do things like marry as teenagers or decide their futures in a shorter time than it takes to play a World Series.)

My future husband and I decided to get married and grow old together when we were still too young to vote. I started to write that we “fell in love,” but that is such a poor description of what actually happened. I probably leaped into love, because marriage and motherhood were the only goals I had in life.

Wendell stuck his platform heels into the ground and tried to slow me down. Briefly. But, eventually he gave up and came along for the ride. It took about two weeks before we were both decided this would be “till death do us part.”

We remember reaching that conclusion during Wooly Worm Season as we drove down country roads in the fall of ’73. Therefore, wooly worms have always made us feel terribly romantic. We are so famous for it that an old friend sent us a photo of one on her sidewalk this year with a message that said, “thought of you.”

But longtime love does not equal boring love, in case you wonder. Growing older together does not mean growing stale. Since we didn’t fall in love in the first place, we’ve just kept deciding to stay in love every day for a very long time. And, that seems to work.

Let me give you a recent example. One of the things my husband dislikes most in life is an electronic device that refuses to obey him. Which, most of them do. His response is usually to hit the keys harder.

Then he calls me over and asks me why the phone/computer/ipad won’t do what he is asking. I’m no techie, so my response is usually, “I don’t know. I guess it hates you.” He frowns. I shrug. Then, we call one of the kids.

So, imagine my surprise last week when I got a text message from him that said, “The wooly worms are out.” Texting is no big deal. We’ve both conquered that. He was out running errands, and I was at work, and we often text little details to one another. It was a sweet gesture and would have made me grin all by itself.

But, the sentence was followed by an emoticon of a smiley face blowing a kiss! Blowing a kiss, I tell you! How on earth did the man who yells at his iPhone find a smiley face blowing a kiss?

Dear Reader, I giggled like the girl in bell bottoms on our first date. That emoji was better than a dozen roses, and I shall never delete the text.

Score another one for longtime love. May you be so blessed to find it. Or to be it.