I spent the whole weekend at the Olympic gymnastics trials. It was great, and I�m so glad I got to see it, but I have to say that four days at the Arrowhead Pond gets a little exhausting. Plus that, I didn�t get any normal weekend stuff done, which leaves me feeling a little stressed and flustered beginning this week. Oh well. That�s the price I must pay for living my oh-so-exciting life.

A couple of little stories to share.

B got himself in trouble this weekend. He�s generally such a good little husband, so it�s noteworthy when he does something bad. OK, so he had to spend Friday and Saturday with his MBA class doing this little business simulation thing. He had mentioned in passing that his MBA buddy had suggested they all get together and play poker after their class on Friday night, but B had kind of brushed it off since they had to be back at school early Saturday morning.

So on Friday night my mom and I got home around 11:00 and I called B. He didn�t pick up the phone, so I figured he�d already gone to bed. To my surprise, when I got to the house, he wasn�t there. There was no message on the answering machine about where he was. I called his cell phone and got his voice mail immediately. I called his OTHER cell phone (don�t ask) and it rang and rang and rang and then went to voice mail. I was a little annoyed that I couldn�t get ahold of him but figured he was probably out with the guys and I went upstairs and got ready for bed.

I must have dozed off, and when I woke up and looked at the clock, it was 1:00. In the morning. I called both cell phones again and got no answer. I went downstairs to check the answering machine and there was nothing. I went out to my car and checked my cell phone � nothing.

Now, I�m not usually one to panic or jump to conclusions, but I did start to freak out a little bit. It was just so unlike B to be out this late at all, let alone without telling me where he was and without being accessible by cell phone. Maybe it�s because of the accident and everything we�ve been through in the past few months � but I did start to go a little crazy, imagining all sorts of horrible things that could have happened to him.

A car accident. Pulled over and arrested for drunk driving. Having an affair. The car accident is what kept running through my head. I seriously considered who I should call. The highway patrol? The hospitals?

I called his cell phones over and over and over. 1:15 came and went. I tried to convince myself I was just being silly and attempted to lie down and sleep. But I couldn�t. My mind was just racing. 1:30 came and went. I gave up on trying to sleep. I tried to distract myself with TV. I called his cell phone again.

He answered. It was 1:44.

I was torn between being so happy that he was OK and being furious with him for making me crazy worrying about him. He said he�d been playing poker with the guys and had left his phone in the car. He said he was coming home.

When he walked into the bedroom, I just looked at him and said, �Don�t you EVER do that to me again.� After explaining how worried I had been and how frantic he�d made me and how I couldn�t sleep and that he could have easily called and let me know where he was, he agreed.

The next day, I had to revisit the issue once more, just to make sure he�d learned his lesson. He had. He�s a pretty good husband after all.

And here�s story #2.

On Saturday night, I came home and B was standing outside in front of our neighbors� house talking with them and their nine-year-old daughter. I went and joined them and we chatted for a little while. I was standing behind B, who was wearing khaki shorts, and I noticed something white hanging out of his back pocket. At first I thought his pocket was inside out. Then I thought maybe it was a white handkerchief hanging out of the pocket, which makes absolutely zero sense because B doesn�t own a single handkerchief.

So I looked a little closer, and that�s what I discovered what it was. A pair of my little, white, silky underwear! Stuck to the Velcro on his back pocket! Not just underwear, but a thong!

I gasped and ripped them off his butt, crumpling them into a little ball in my fist. Of course, then I had to explain what had just happened. Both neighbors said they hadn�t noticed anything. But the nine-year-old said sheepishly, �I saw, but I didn�t want to say anything��

Luckily, B had only recently changed into those shorts from the clothes he had been wearing all day at his MBA thing. Can you imagine if he�d been walking around like that all day?

0 comments so far

previous - next

Working at home - Wednesday, Nov. 17, 2004

Toronto - Tuesday, Nov. 16, 2004

On the way to Toronto... - Tuesday, Nov. 09, 2004

A Good Day - Monday, Nov. 08, 2004

Another letter - Thursday, Nov. 04, 2004