Friends of mine might have noticed my persistent use of the number 31. It’s attached to my Twitter account, my email address, and I even wore it on my back for several summers of YMCA-league slow pitch softball.
I don’t favor this number for usual reasons. It’s not for Greg Maddox or Reggie Miller. It’s not a reference to a Bible verse or chapter or even Baskin-Robbins ice cream. I use the number 31 so often because I want to remind Kassie that I love her.
When I went to Kassie’s hometown and met her parents for the first time, I saw a framed list hanging on her wall. It was one of those lists a lot of teenage girls probably make with their preferred qualities in a boyfriend and potential husband. It was pretty standard fare, but item #31 on the list caught my eye: “He will be absolutely crazy about me.”
So ever since, I’ve abandoned my lucky number 7 from childhood. 31 is my number now, and I try to use it a lot.
Kassie, I’m still crazy about you.