HIMYM, HBU?

Kids, it was the fall of 2011, a simpler, more optimistic time, when I began watching the then-hit sitcom, How I Met Your Mother.

The show followed Ted Mosby, architect and hopeless romantic (emphasis on hopeless), Marshall Erikson and Lily Alrdin, lawyer and kindergarten teacher/“old married couple,” Barney Stinson, (heh, please) and Ted’s best friend, and Robin Scherbatsky, semi-unhinged Canadian reporter and Ted’s dream girl.

It was a good show, especially the early seasons. I ended up bowing out before the final two seasons, which ended up being pretty controversial. As it turns out, building a ten-year sitcom around the concept of a “how I met your mother” story really needs to stick the landing on the “meeting the mother” front. I never went back to finish it.

Still, I’ve been feeling nostalgic, so I started a rewatch a few weeks ago and had a bit of a revelation. The first time I watched this show I was in college, a mere mumblety-grumblety years old, and empathizing pretty heavily with Ted on the whole “it’s hard meeting someone out there” front.

But now, I’m MUMBLETY-GRUMBLETY-GRUMP years old. So I’m starting the show happily married in a relationship that’s older than the “old married couple’s” relationship. And having seen none of the show in between, it’s a real trippy experience. Even Marshall and Lily look like kids to me now. I’m thankful every day that I don’t have to know what Barney’s TikTok would have looked like. Mostly, it just feels the way a lot of old comfort shows feel: like a time capsule to who you were when you first watched. It makes you want to yell at the show and your younger self to oh my god, just comb your hair buy some clothes that actually fit! Can you just… Can you just once be cool? Please? Just once? Just… Okay?!

Also, if you remember this show, we’re five years out from the “distant future” in which Ted tells his kids the whole story, so sit with that for a few minutes. Maybe help yourself to a sandwich to cope.