Monday, September 1, 2014

Everything You Think...

"where are you?" flew a text to my hubby from my phone. "we are in the car!"

No response.

We wait a few more minutes before I request Manlet to go back in and try to find his father.

Not as in the "Luke, I AM your Father" moment, but simply "Dad, we are leaving now."

*Sigh*

I personally have a hard time being patient. I can adopt a whirlwind persona at the drop of a hat. I am also able to sit quietly and read for hours at a time without medication. When I feel 'jumpy' I simply have a cup of coffee. 

Not so with Steve.

The Hubster has his mind sets. That can be good or that can be, well, irritating.  Especially when we are trying to go somewhere.

Punctuality is not one of my spouse's strong suits.

Minutes march on.

It has been a calm and quiet week on the emotional front in our household for a change. Steve's parents sent him birthday wishes that arrived prior to the actual anniversary of his 'birth' day, which had him floating on air with joy. Add to that a special barbeque at work on Steve's actual birthday (coincidental though it was), followed a phone call to him from an uncle that rarely keeps in touch, and a lovely steak dinner prepared by moi (eaten together at the diningroom table after Manlet's football practice) put the finishing touches on a pleasant day. Daughterlet prepared a wonderful meal at her home with her fiance, and our eldest son couple of days later. 

My mother forgot, but she's forgetting many things these days. No worries though, as Hubby went to bed full and happy each day.

Calm and quiet until now, that is, since he's disappeared.

Fifteen minutes have elapsed when Manlet comes dashing out of the house, The Hubster trudging a ways behind. His face is screwed up in a grimace. 

"Where were you?" I demand through my open window. Realizing my voice was probably shrill, I took a deep breath as Manlet jumps behind the wheel. Oh how I love having a chauffeur. It allows me more time to calm myself.

More minutes melt by as The Hubster opens the car door, pauses to check the bottoms of his shoes in case he's accidentally stepped into something that shouldn't be on the carpets of the car, then slooooowly settles himself into the front passenger seat. 

Manlet is itching to put the car into drive but waits for his father to close his door and fasten his seatbelt. Kudos to our son. He's handling this far better than I.

When Papa Bear is finally firmly ensconced and ready for travel, Manlet guns the engine and pops the gearshift, our metal steed in motion at last.

I continue to wait for an explanation.

It wasn't until we reached our destination that Steve chose to share his thoughts.

"I figured you guys wouldn't be ready on time, so I decided to fill the dog feeder and water bowls," states the Questionee.

"Were they empty?" I quizzed.

"Nope," proclaims He of Slow Motion. "I filled them when I got up this morning."

I sat stunned as my menfolk alighted from the car.

Turning around, my illustrious Spouse stared at me.

"Hurry up!" He barked. "You're going to make us late!"

What else was I to do but laugh?