Mr W announced to me a while back, "Oh, I'm going out of town for a few days in August; there's a conference in Tucson I'm getting sent too."
Whatever, I thought, a few days, not too far away, no big deal.
Okay, so I'm a little jealous that he can come home and just say these things, and not worry that he'll have to arrange anything other than his suitcase, if that, but whatever. Work is work, right?
I didn't even pay attention, really, to where he was staying until he called last night to tell me his details.
I'm a lot jealous. It's posh, swank, it's one of the better known resorts in these parts, in national magazines, stars stay there, the works.
"What? You're staying WHERE? What happened to economy, what happened to Holiday Inn? Wait a minute, last year, you go to San Francisco, one of my favorite places; now you're at a resort; I'm here, with the four children, and all that entails, I smell like ass, and I think the cat just threw up, and you're in the lap of luxury? Isn't it time for your manicure or something?"
I spare him the chance to pull the "I-buy-you-cool-presents" card.
"It's a good thing you did get me the laptop, or I might have to drive down there and hurt you."
I think he may have felt an ounce of guilt. At least until his head hit the five-star pillows.
This morning, I'm up early, I get to shower uninterrupted and I get the kids up for school. I'm in the zone, the kids are cooperating, and then...
*Ryan spills an entire glass of milk.
*I step in a hairball/cat puke combo. Barefooted.
*The dogs eat all the cat food, which means I have to go get some more, and I was just at PetsMart yesterday.
And here is the capper:
My darling husband calls and asks me to come down. "What?" "The other guys have called their wives; they're coming." "And the kids?" "No, leave them at your Mom's." "School?" "They can miss a day." "They're missing enough this week (dr appts) and will probably miss a day next week when we go to that concert on Tues night." "Come on."
I'm mentally tallying all the things I'd have to take care of before I can go. It's a list that is very "You can go to the ball, Cinderella, if only you can get these things done first...."
"I'm sorry, honey, I don't think I can pull it off."
He's persistent, with a text message here and there. I'm getting annoyed. It's a generous, very sweet offer, for sure. But on a moment's notice, because he got a wild hair up his butt, I'm supposed to procure childcare and animal care; pack up the kids stuff, my stuff, the animal's stuff, and just jet on down for tonight and tomorrow? On limited funds? Just because?
I want to kill him. Why didn't he think of this last week, when I could have arranged things?
Maybe I'm the one who's being unreasonable here.
I'll just do the Six, and catch my breath.
Before I call my Mom. And beg like a 16 year old wanting to borrow the car. (I made the mistake of looking up the spa menu. T-o-r-t-u-r-e. And call me naive, but why exactly offer "breast surgery massage"? If you have breast surgery, I'd think you'd not have a hard time finding someone willing to massage them for free. Am I right?)
Saturday Six - Episode 122
1. Has your blog received more comments, less comments, or about the same number of comments this summer?
2. What do you think best explains your answer from the last question?
I wrote less. And people are busy in the summer. At least I hope that's it...
3. With the latest terror alert about liquid bombs on airplanes, are you any less likely to schedule a flight somewhere?
I can't get away for an overnight two hours away from my house and I'd be traveling by car, and I'm supposed to think about flying somewhere? No. Yes. Who's paying, and are my kids coming too? (which means, right now, I can't answer this)
4. Take the quiz: What color flower are you?
I'm a blue flower. I took it more than once, and changed a couple of answers I was wavering on, and still. True blue me, I guess. But cold? Anyone believe that?
A blue flower tends to represent peace, openness, and balance.
At times, you are very delicate like a cornflower.
And at other times, you are wise like an iris.
And more than you wish, you're a little cold, like a blue hydrangea.
5. What was the last occasion in which you sent someone flowers?
I sent some to a colleague of Mr W's whose sister had died.
6. A hypothetical science question: A couple has a young child that they love very much. He has a rare genetic disorder that will be fatal unless doctors can use embryonic stem cells, and the only way to get them is for his parents to donate eggs and sperm so that a lab can create another embryo. Should the parents and the doctors be allowed to create an embryo to save the child's life?
Hypothetical science questions are what tend to cause trouble because they always get heated, blown out of proportion, and tainted with sentiment until 'hypothetical' becomes a segment on 60 Minutes. Everyone wants to be right. Sure, this ? is hypothetical in that the lab would create an embryo, but it's already been done. Call me jaded, but I'm sure many babies have been conceived and born in hopes that they are a tissue match for an ill sibling. Got bone marrow?