Quick Note: Thank you Newt for my new banner! It's awesome!
Now, back to your reading pleasure:
He’s only going to be gone for 3 days. How difficult is it to decide what to pack for a 3-day trip? Apparently, it’s just pretty darn difficult.
Should he take one uniform or two? How many regular shirts should he take? Should he take the jacket that goes with his uniform or will he even need a jacket? Should he take his workout stuff? And the list goes on.
Then it became a question of which suitcase to take. The jacket, the extra uniform, the workout stuff and any variation there of don’t fit in the backpack he wants to take. This is distressing because that’s the suitcase he wants to take to Italy, and now he’s worried that it won’t be big enough.
He’s staring at the bag, visibly upset that these things don’t fit.
“Honey, you won’t be taking your combat boots to Italy,” I remind him.
“Well, that’s true,” he says. But he’s still staring at the bag.
“Honey, you won’t be taking two bulky uniforms with you to Italy,” I try.
“Well, that’s true,” he says again, but he’s still not convinced.
He decides he only needs one uniform, but he wants to take his workout stuff. I tell him he’ll still need a bigger bag because the combat boots, uniform, and running shoes are taking up most of the space. Will he really have time to go to the gym? So, I asked him if he really wants to take his workout stuff.
Again, he’s staring at the bag.
“Honey, it’s really not that difficult a decision. You either want to take it or you don’t. If you do, get a bigger bag. If you don’t, we’ll pack up this one.”
Still staring at the bag. He decides he wants his workout stuff, and he gets a bigger suitcase. He’s still fretting that it didn’t all fit in the backpack.
“Honey, you won’t be taking your workout stuff to Italy,” I say, hoping this will be the end of it.
And it is. Everything else goes smoothly.
He’s probably landed and checked into the hotel by now. I’m sitting here trying not to fall asleep, but getting up at 4:00 am to take him to the airport, then going to the gym, then going to an estrogen-laden quilt group has worn me out. I think instead of tea and Miss Marple, I’ll have some wine and watch something on Pay Per View.
*Yawn* Night y’all.