Mini Vacations

The best way to start a fight in my family, aside from not feeding me on time, is to deny my beloved Pamela a road trip when she is so inclined. When the mood catches my sweetie, the only sensible choice is to gas up the Subaru, don my sunglasses, and ask how soon she wants to hit the road. Unfortunately, I never do the sensible thing when I should. It is a gift really, in that I can tell exactly what I should have done mere moments after doing the wrong thing. In matters concerning my lovely wife, my first clue is usually something large and expensive flying by my head at frightening velocity. Homeland security should take note that assorted dishware from Phalzcraft, Correl and Lennox makes excellent weapons in the hands of someone as determined and well trained as my darling Pamela. Area 51 doesn't have as many flying saucers as does my own living room if I disagree when my baby doll wants a mini vacation. If not for my own finely honed avoidance skills (otherwise known as running away) I'd be a poster boy for black eyes or broken noses.

It is not that I don't like the let's run to the car and get away from it all attitude of my wonderful but temperamental wife. She just won't go home. Our mini vacations begin as soon as I can fly out of my job on Friday and last until we drag home several seconds before midnight Sunday night. My beloved will visit, tour and visit some more while I mentally count off the remaining seconds before we absolutely must leave for home. Thirty minutes or so after that deadline we will depart, like the proverbial bat out of the Meatloaf album (kiddies, ask your parents about that). I live with a very real fear that someday, we'll arrive so late that instead of taking me home, she'll just drop me straight off at work Monday, neatly avoiding having to fix me breakfast. If I'm lucky, perhaps there will be a fast food biscuit in the deal or at least a cup of orange juice.

How do you live with a woman who can be quietly texting her friends and sipping hot chocolate one moment and the next be careening down the highway at breakneck speed heading to who knows where? Honestly, I do not know. I'll have to get back to you on that one. If I get home on time.