Counting the days...

I'll tell you something about traveling by yourself that my husband has recently learned; or so he tells me: It's ultimately very healthy for your relationship.

When you first learn that one of you has to go away, you're actually both looking forward to it, but neither of you wants to admit it. So you both pretend you are going to be miserable.

"I'm going to miss you."

"I'm really going to miss you."

Again, it's a competition.

"I'm the one unable to live without you."

"No, I'm totally unable to live without you, I swear."

The truth is, one of you is thrilled to be going somewhere, and the other can't wait to have the house to themselves. Then, you get to where you are going, and you find that you really do miss each other. If for no other reason, you forgot how to be alone.

Me: "Babe, where are my glasses? . . . Babe? . . . Oh, right you're in Muncie. . . I'll just. . . find them myself. That's what I used to do, sure. . . "

My husband was so excited to be going home, but now he's staying in a hotel in the town where the wedding is being held. He was more comfortable at his mom's I think.

"You wouldn't believe the hotel I'm stuck in. I wish you were here."

"To see the cheesy hotel?"

"Yes."

Or he just needs to hear a sane voice. Have you ever called from a family get together like the one he's at, that your partner weaseled out of? (weaseled: meaning "had to work" in this case)

"Hi--I'm going OUT OF MY MIND."

"It's only for four more days."

"I won't make it, you hear me? I WON'T."

Then he starts pining for home, like a child.

"How's the house?"

"What do you mean, "How's the house?' "

"What does everything look like?"

"Since you left?"

"Yeah."

"It's all different. I repainted again, knocked down the bathroom wall, your "man-room" is gone. No one really knows how that happened."

"How are the dogs?"

"Fine."

"Do they miss me?"

"Been crying since you left."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously? They have no idea you left. Thinks you are in the shower or sleeping. . . Would you like to know how I am?"

"Yes, yes, I was just going ask. I swear--that was my next question. How are you?"

Hotel vs Mom

My husband is going to his brother's wedding this week. He gets to stay at his parent's house but if it was up to me, I'd stay at a hotel.

I'll tell you what I love about hotels: They can't do enough for you. They want to make you feel at home, and then they give you things that nobody has at home. Shower caps, shoe horns. . . and sewing kits? My husband has never sewn in his life. What makes then think he's going to start at the Marriott in Muncie, Indiana? Has anybody ever made that call? "Honey, I'm in Indiana, and my buttons are flying off like crazy! What do I do? What? Yes, there's a sewing kit right here. OK, I have it. Talk me through."

And I love the little chocolates on the pillow. There's a clever snacking item, because personally, there's nothing I like better right before I go to bed than a nice diabetic seizure. A pound and a half of sugar before going to sleep, good idea.

I want to know how they selected chocolate as the appropriate treat. What were the other suggestions? "How about . . . scallops? Do you think scallops would be good on a pillow? Or maybe kiwi. Several kiwi, thinly sliced . . ."

Could I get any cooler?

I think not. Well, maybe. After selling the purple truck, I had other plans. Not just to have money for my son's (gulp) car, but to also buy a scooter. I've had my eye on a little Vespa knock-off (just couldn't see spending $6000 on a scooter) so I did it. And I put little pink flames on it too. I just had to have the flames. Anyway, I'm still just going to work and back; a five minute ride, but I'm getting used to it, and I think this is the best way to go. Someday, maybe in a year or two, I will graduate to a bigger ride. But for now I am totally satisfied with what I got. I worked hard for it. Any hoo... later.