It all started with a tator tot.

I was just sitting there, minding my own business. Trying to get through the church luncheon my mother dragged me to. All the old ladies reeking of mothballs and icy hot.

At least they're feeding me. Those grandmas filled up an entire long table with various eats. Roast beef, veggies, salad varieties, casseroles and enough cake to give you the dibeetus just looking at it.

I headed up to the buffet table, refusing to look at my mom's disapproving scowl as I filled my plate with macaroni salad and tator tot casserole. Yes, mom, I know that, according to you, I could stand to lose a few pounds. No, mom, that's not going to stop me from filling my jowls with tater tots.

Trying to juggle my full plate of contraband whilst refraining from knocking someone's head with my backside was harder than you think. And I failed so hard at it.

I was doing so well at first as I made my way to an empty table in the far right corner of the large fellowship hall. About halfway there I felt something rub over my buttcheek and took a hasty step forward, trying to turn and apologize to whoever I assaulted.

Which was mistake number two.

Number one was coming to this wrinkly, gray-haired lunch in the first place.

My right foot caught on the back of my left foot as I stepped and tried to pivot, causing me to lose my balance and fall backwards. Right into someone's lap.

Which was still not the worst part.

While falling, I tried to right myself by flailing my arms about like one of those poo-flinging monkeys at the zoo that no one likes. So, of course, right as I landed on the lap, my plate full of tots flung itself into the strangers face.

A very large part of me wondered if it would be wrong to pray for a me-sized hole to open up through the floor and swallow me whole. But I was never that lucky. So I turned my head toward the stranger that was presently acting as my chair.

And oh.

My.

Tots.

Before me sat what could only be a present from God to me for being an amazing daughter and suffering through this luncheon and subsequent embarrassment.

I wouldn't say that I'd lick the totserole completely off his perfect visage…

But I also would not…..NOT say it.

I was sitting on khaki-covered legs, which were not that uncomfortable. His light blue dress shirt, which was now light blue AND random food blotches, was coupled with a grey and blue paisley tie. I guess he was the 'dress up for church' type.

His brown hair was cut short on the sides and longer on top, the front sticking up like he ran his hands through it a lot. His lips were full, pouty; I bet he was a great kisser. He seemed to be close to my age, maybe about nineteen or twenty. And then there were the eyes.

As blue as the water on a tropical beach, and just as deep. I could drown in those eyes.

Or just look like a crazy, tot-wielding maniac with drool running down my face as I blatantly stared at a stranger while parked on his lap without asking. In a church no less.

The present from God cleared his throat loudly, bringing me back to reality. He raised one perfect brow, considering me with a smirk on his face while he casually wiped totserole from his forehead.

"Oh my flippin' cheeseburgers I am SO sorry!" I escaped his lap as if it were on fire, grabbing napkins from the table and trying to clean his face off.

That would probably count as mistake number three.

During my ministrations, I was not aware that I was pushing a piece of tot up the poor present's nose. Not until I heard the unmistakable sound of someone blowing their nose and sneezing. Right into the napkins I'm holding.

Don't suffocate your present before you've gotten to play with it. Death by potato was not something you wanted to try to explain in court. Get it together Harper.

My hand dropped the napkins on the floor and stepped backwards carefully. I nervously twirled my fingers in my long brunette curls and averted my eyes to the floor. Anywhere that wasn't on his spud-covered face.

"I feel like we have been through enough together that we should probably introduce ourselves."

Oh not the voice too!

His deep voice was the equivalent of filling a swimming pool with chocolate syrup and just letting the creamy smoothness slide all over your naked form. Leaving you really considering licking yourself clean after.

Wait, he was talking to me. He expected me to answer, right?

Don't screw this up!

"My Harper is name!" I reached my arm out stiffly for a handshake.

That went smoothly…

The present couldn't hold back his low chuckle as he cleaned the rest of his lickable face off before tossing the napkins on the table. "Well, very nice to meet you Harper. My Thane is name." And he stiffly presented his hand.

Oh he was good. And I was fairly sure I was already in love and planning the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Thane Spudface.

You know, handshakes were not a hard concept to grasp. I pretty much had it mastered by my third birthday. Yes, I didn't have many chances to practice my art, but it was like riding a bike. Right?

Apparently not.

I awkwardly gripped his pointer finger with my thumb and index and proceeded to shake the poor thing. There wasn't even a rhythm to it. I felt like a twelve year old boy and his first encounter with a boner.

I needed to leave before I made this worse. I wasn't really this extra usually. I blame my mother. And the eau du Icy Hot.

"I….. escape that way." I pointed to the side door that leads to the main hallway of the church and walked as fast as my pencil-skirt-clad legs would carry me. Which was not that fast. I immediately regretted my decision to wear my new black heels.

I heard my mother's outraged yell as I passed her in my attempt to flee, followed by another voice calling my name. A voice I wanted to bathe in.

Nope. The last thing I wanted was to be caught by him. I wondered as I walked if God allowed refunds.