Kids, one day we’ll tell you the story of how I met your mother. Most people in our generation meet on dating apps. Your mom and I met at my company holiday party, proving that free drinks and questionable small talk can sometimes lead to lifelong happiness. She showed up because her cousin, who happened to be my coworker, mentioned there was a new guy at work she should come meet. Thanks, Connor. We still owe you a commission. We spotted each other pretty quickly, started talking, and hit it off right away. About 20 minutes later, we were already headed to the after-party at The Good Lion, with your mom driving, very responsibly. So responsibly, in fact, that she grabbed my half-finished beer and dumped it out before we even left the parking lot. That’s when I knew she was a keeper. That night basically turned into our first unofficial date. We skipped right over all the safe small talk and dove straight into religion, politics, and all the things that usually guarantee there won’t be a second date. But somehow, it just worked. After that, we were pretty much inseparable. We spent a lot of time together, checking out new restaurants, wineries, and speakeasies. It all just felt easy, and before long, we both knew this was something real. And that, kids, is how I met your mother. One holiday party, one confiscated beer, and a whole lot of “who’s this cute girl?” Also, Connor, if you’re still reading, seriously, invoice us.