Because the Tenth Anniversary is the Burrito Anniversary

The trip we took in April was supposed to cover some weeks of gift-giving family holidays: Valentine's Day, Plantboy's birthday in March, Mother's Day, my birthday in May, our anniversary last week and Father's Day. The idea, of course, being that we'd rather do one big cool thing than have a lot of lame-ish smaller presents.

This is such an awesome idea. In theory.

In practice it is a little bit dodgier. I did give everyone something (tiny) for Valentine's Day. As for Plantboy's birthday, well, there was just a shirt. And a CD. During Elder Scott's talk in conference ("I love you, but we can't afford it") Plantboy 'fessed up: Jerry Seinfeld was coming to town just a week after my birthday and he bought tickets nearly two months ahead to surprise me but now he felt guilty because they were expensive and on the credit card and should he try to sell them?

No. He should not. I also pointed out that now I felt guilty about them too instead of just pleasantly surprised. It's a good thing we had nearly two months to get over it, and to pay for them. (The Jerry was fantastic, by the way.)

Our vacation was, of course, wonderful but we did a very poor job of the just stick to one souvenir apiece plan. I hope by now you are starting to get a sense of how exceptionally well-disciplined Mr. Plantboy and I are. We could probably make it on one income if we could both stick to our guns and/or live like hermits.

We almost didn't do anything for my birthday or Mother's Day. Almost. Oh, yeah, the Seinfeld tickets. But they didn't really count, did they? After all, we bought them weeks in advance.
Our anniversary approached; we reminded one another daily that we were not doing anything (else) for it. Besides, the ward was doing a fathers and sons camp out that night. That was all the anniversary present I needed!

Then, Plantboy came home with the news that the Chipotle scheduled to open here in town was on time, and that opening day was our anniversary. Does this not seem like that big of a deal to you? Well, then, clearly, you are not married to Plantboy.

Plantboy lived in Denver when the first few of these restaurants opened in the mid-nineties. One of them was right down the street from the Denver temple where he worked during the summer. It would be pushing it to say they ate there every day, but probably twice a week.

Then he married me, and we spent our first summer in Denver. I was shocked that he'd been previously going out to lunch daily, and buying $5 burritos two or three times week. I insisted on him packing the lunch nearly every day, giving the kitchen pass to go out only once a week or every other week. Then he TOOK me to Chipotle.

I wasn't so harsh about him packing lunch after that. I cautioned moderation, of course; it can't be good for you to eat a 10,000 calorie burrito every day for lunch, but I didn't fault his taste any more. We love everything about Chipotle.

We love the cool design of each store.

We love their corrugated metal decor and Aztec art.

We love their catch slogans and ad campaigns. (All time favorite: Usually When You Roll Something This Good, It's Illegal.)

We love their fresh ingredients, and that you can stuff anything that will fit into a HUGE tortilla and still be charged just $6. (The price has gone up a bit from the old Denver days, and yes, we know that guacamole is extra.) We love the cilantro lime rice so much that we've tried to re-create it here at home for years.

But mostly, oh, mostly, we just love their food.

One of the hardest things to say goodbye to in Texas was the Chipotle they'd built just a year before we left. Did you know that branch gave you and a friend a free meal on your birthday? And firemen and cops were always free. The nearest Chipotle to where we lived in Utah was two hours. TWO HOURS! We love it, but two hours was really pushing it.

The nearest franchise to us until Friday was about a mile from the Portland temple. I suppose it is no secret where we ate each time we went. I have sometimes even wondered a bit about my darling spouse's motivation for attending the temple . . . .

But not anymore. This newest addition to the Chipotle family is just three minutes from Plantboy's office. Yes, I foresee that this could be a bad thing. But it was sure fun on Friday. We came just after they opened and got the free tee shirts being given to the first 100 in the door. We sat near the lady handing out the free stuff and also got a squeezie burrito stress toy, a couple of free meals, free lip guac (read: chapstick), a pen and a couple of coupons for free guac and chips next time we go. She told us that on Thursday, when they'd given out free burritos all day, they had given away over $14,000 in food. (We tried twice to wait, but the line was over 100 people long and it went around the building. In a town primarily populated by vagrants and college students, this should come as no surprise.)

My friend watched my little ones for a couple of hours while Plantboy and I did this silly and fun thing that made us really feel like part of the community. When Plantboy admitted to the promotional-girl that he'd written the company three times to suggest Eugene locations for the burrito-goodness, she saw that we were the true superfans and is going to send us a bunch more coupons and tee-shirts. We will officially be enrolled as Chipotle Ambassadors.

Really.

How am I doing so far?