People, it was a whopping two degrees BELOW zero last night, when Hubs and I went out to pick the boy up from youth group at the church. The older I get, the more I have come to realize that even the thickest North Face jacket that money can buy isn’t going to keep you warm in those circumstances, and SWEET MERCY! WHEN IS THE SUBURBAN GOING TO KICK IT INTO ACTION AND HEAT ITSELF UP INSIDE?!
And then I simply blurted out the cold hard facts, because even the facts were cold last night. I said, “Hubs, I am packing a bag, and I am moving to Arizona tomorrow. I want to live in a retirement community during the winter months with Bob and Sally from church. I want to play gin rummy every evening with the seniors, and I want to go to bed WARM AT NIGHT! I am taking the boy; feel free to visit us.”
And Hubs looked at me through his frozen eyelids and said, “Humph.”
(Hubs’ humphs sound a lot like an elephant sneezing peanut shells out his nose.)
And then Hubs said, “You would never have made it as a mountain man.”
Let’s just get one thing clear, people. Hubs’ deepest desire is to become a recluse. He wants away from overcrowded shopping centers and slow drivers who always end up with their Volvos right in front of him. He wants to hunt for what he eats, breathe unpolluted air, and sit in a saggy recliner watching ESPN and Sports Center all day long. And then Hubs wants to come down off the mountain twice a year for the rendezvous, and trade hides for whiskey and playing cards.
Playing cards which he’ll use for games of Solitaire with his pet bobcat named Get ‘Em.
I’d like to go on the record and say that there are many visions in life that Hubs and I do not share, and this happens to be one of them. I, myself, THRIVE on crowded shopping centers, and I can hardly wait to race from Gap Kids to Dillard’s, and then across the hallway to Bath and Body Works, and then finish everything up at Bob’s Pizza By the Slice. A good time for me includes ten girlfriends talking and laughing so loudly, we can’t even HEAR THE PHONE RING.
So yes. I looked at Hubs and said, “Nope. I never would have made it as a mountain man, because God puts us in a generation that is tailored exactly for us. And He knew that I couldn’t have handled ALL THE NATURE and ALL THE DIRT and LACK OF A BATHTUB and GREASY BEAR MEAT WITH BONES and THE ABSENCE OF A STARBUCKS!”
And with that I texted Becki and said, “2 below. Moving to AZ. I am not a penguin.”
And Hubs said, “Becki’s a skier. She’s not going to embark on a Thelma and Louise adventure with you.”
Thirty seconds later I had, “4 below at my house! I am moving with you! I hate wind! Packing now!”
I just grinned at Hubs and said, “Skiing stinks. Becki’s cold, too, and she’s in!”
I’d like to say that our conversation ended there, but we picked up the tail end of it this morning, as Hubs mentioned that he’d actually ENJOY being Batman. I told him what a fine career choice that was, because of SUPERHERO and GREAT BLACK CAPE and RESCUING PEOPLE, and Hubs said, “Well, I’m not planning on rescuing anyone, actually. I just want to sit in the Bat Cave all day and watch Sports Center. And once a week, I’ll take the Bat Car out, drive it fast, and get groceries.”
“Batman has a butler. Your butler can get groceries.”
And Hubs said, “Butlers are overrated, so the first thing I’ll do as Batman is fire mine. And also? Honey, I don’t really think you’re cut out to be a superhero, because you drive too slow and your reflexes are failing.”
If y’all need me over the weekend, just call my cell phone. I’ll be in the moving van, heading straight for a gin rummy game and a senior-citizen-style, fish-shaped, Jell-O mold salad in Arizona, while Becki and I sing “On the Road Again” with an old cassette. And if you need Batman… Well… Good luck. He’ll be in the Bat Cave, NOT WEARING THE CAPE BECAUSE HE DOESN’T BELIEVE IN THE FASHION STATEMENT A GOOD CAPE CAN MAKE, and he’ll never hear your cry for help.
I guess this means Superman is going to have to pick up the slack. I hope Superman doesn’t get too cold here in Small Town, USA this week in his just his fancy tights.
You can blame this post on the fact that I just ate my weight in pretzel M&Ms and may be suffering from a sugar-induced buzz that made me type too fast.
Sometimes I type without thinking things through.
Happy Thursday night.
Y’all have a great weekend.