I love the wife, really.
But she can drive me crazy by over thinking things.
Case in point:
Our yearly pilgrimage to visit our money in Las Vegas.
It’s still six months away.
That’s twice the life span of a roach or six generations of house fly.
Save that information for small talk at your next cocktail party.
People will be impressed.
She and I can take about four days there before the money runs out and we get tired of the place and want to home.
This’ll be the first trip in years without all her high school reunion friends.
I suspect she’ll be tired of me by the second day.
Or maybe by the time we land.
This year is a bit different as we’re going to swing through Arizona to hit up my sister and brother-in-law for Thanksgiving dinner on the way to the land of enchantment and riches.
That’s assuming they haven’t disowned me by then.
With all that out-of-the-way…
My bride has been watching the airfares like a hawk for over a month, waiting to pounce on the best price the moment it happens.
Trouble is, like just about everything else, the price of a ticket has been steadily going up.
“Should I book now or wait a bit more?”
Indecision is a terrible thing.
You know as soon as she books the flight Hawaiian Air will drop the price.
It always works that way.
So then her attention turned to when would we come home.
I leave that stuff to her because I really don’t care.
Around the 3rd or 4th day I’m ready.
My job is Vegas is drive her around to the various store sales and then go find something interesting to do for a couple of hours while she shops.
Just anything to kill some time.
Your idea and mine of what might be interesting probably is different.
Don’t be afraid to try new things.
Bikini bull riding certainly qualifies.
Also part of my job is win lots of money to give to her so she can blow it on video poker.
I know my place in life.
The latest one-sided discussion centered around whether to take the 1:45 AM or 9 AM flight back.
I really didn’t care.
There was at least 15 minutes of explanations from her on the pluses and minuses of each choice.
My answer remained the same: I don’t care.
Pick one.
Anyone will do.
That bought about 5 minutes of peace and quiet.
Then she poked her head back in my office and we were off and running again on the same subject.
It was time someone made a decision.
1:45.
“Are you sure?”
Yes, cast in concrete.
“Are you really sure because…”
Yup.
That opened the floodgates for another round of pros and cons.
1:45.
Really.
“Where do you want to sit?”
Preferably on the plane.
“No, what seat?”
Don’t care as long as it’s a two-seat row so it’s just her and I.
I don’t want to sit next to the all-too-common crazy person on planes these days.
That started another long discussion and a visit to the seatguru website.
“Rows 13, 14 or 15?”
Whatever suits my princess.
“If we leave at 1:45 AM we get into Honolulu at 6 and we can pick up the dogs from the kennel.”
They don’t open until 8.
Off we go again.
The key to a happy, or at least less painful marriage, is knowing when to quit.
Fine, we’ll kill time and be at the vet at 8 AM.
I expect the next chapter of this most excellent adventure to unfold about Wednesday as she has second thoughts on everything.
Every time we go on a trip she buys new luggage.
We got empty bags stuffed in closets all over the place.
I like my old beat up one, thank you.
Sometimes she wonders why I’m grumpy by the time we get there.