Hubby's in Trouble

  • Downhome Magazine
  • Posted: Nov 30, -0001 12:00 AM
Friday, November 18, 2011

It's safe to say that the Christmas season is upon us. While Mother Nature is giving us gale force winds and a balmy twelve degrees, with seasonally confused flies and mosquitoes, Christmas is no doubt in the air. With Halloween now a distant memory, mini-lights, tinsel and glowing Christmas trees line the shelves reminding us "Santa" is coming before you know it.

The "Festive Special" and its Lindor chocolates, Starbucks and its Christmas cups, "tax-free" events at the local malls...indeed, the Christmas season has arrived. Last year at this time we were smothered in renovations that seem to have resulted in the misplacement of many of last year's decorations. Slowly but surely we've recovered those all-familiar Rubbermaid bins labelled "Christmas." The office, Mom and Dad's, the attic; yes, those lovely bins were scattered around the city continually leaving me asking, "Where is the tree?"

Honestly, the last three weeks have been an utter blur. Between hockey, gymnastics, laundry, groceries and now Christmas shopping, I'd like to tell you that I've had a productive few weeks. But that would depend on your definition of productive. Shopping has begun, electronic lists added to the cell phone, a new Christmas tree purchased (since last year's seems to have bit the dust), and still after all that my mind continues to be uncooperative.

I've caught myself walking down the hall, stopping dead in my tracks and having absolutely no idea of what I was going to do. At the grocery, I stopped and asked myself, "What am I doing here? Did I even plan on coming here today?, or simply on auto-pilot my mind and body propel me in the right direction in the hope I might clue in and remember what I'm supposed to do.

Just the other day, feeling spry and on top of my game, I went to Wal-Mart (list in hand). While I was there my husband calls and says he was there too. Happily we meet up and have ourselves a lovely little outing. We peruse the aisles, collect what's needed and even run into some friends we haven't seen in a long time.
We check out, make our way to the parking lot, while laughing and ultimately making dinner plans with our friends. It's here that my husband tells me he's, "parked over here by these guys" and we go our separate ways. I head towards my car thinking that was a fun little morning outing together. No sooner had I said the words to myself, did I stop dead in my tracks!

"Ugh? What the....I know I....sweet mother of....", I mumble out loud. My knuckles whiten on the kart handles as I shake my head. "Where's the bloody car?!" I was so pleased with my parking spot when I first arrived. Not too far away and just close enough to the kart corral, but now, that spot was taken with a maroon coloured car that was NOT mine. "That's it I'm done!" I growl to myself. "I've lost it, I've officially lost it! I've lost the car. Did someone steal the car?" My mind is racing as I look around, wondering, is the car really lost? or did I even park here in the first place?

Then out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of my husband's truck; lurched over next to it is a person, a man. My man! Holding on to the side of his truck for dear life...laughing himself into hysterics! "What is going on here?" At this point Phil is doubled over he's laughing so hard, and I finally clue in as to why.

There, in another section of the lot, close to his truck, is my car! He'd moved my car! Who pulls into a parking lot and says to himself, "Oh, there's the wife's car...I'm gonna move it!" How old are we again? "You should have seen the look on your face!" he shouts out between belly laughs. Meanwhile, I'm thinking, you're going to have some look on your face when I'm done with you.

Here I was thinking it's finally time to throw in the towel, Mommy has officially lost her nibits; the car is gone and so is my mind. Then, I flash to a vision of Phil pulling in the parking lot, snickering to himself, proud of the distress he's about to subject me to and can't help but laugh myself. I'm married to a child.

"You have no idea how hard it was not to burst out laughing in the store!" he tells me between chuckles. Little does he realize that little stunt is forever filed away in my memory. I may not be able to remember milk, may forget my keys in the front door and occasionally overlook that chicken pot pie should be cooked before serving, but this! THIS, would not be forgotten! I load up my vehicle, kiss the man on the cheek and whisper in his ear, "sleep with one eye open tonight dear - I love you!"