I'm sorry it's taken me a bit longer to blog this week. But I have a good reason. A very, very good reason. I bet you can hardly wait for my reason, which is really good, by the way.
What's my reason, you ask? Well, hold on to your panties, ladies and gentlemen!
Here it is:
and some of this:
Yes, guys, this is why I haven't managed to post anything until today. Because this, this is heaven on earth, and that, my friends, is what I lived this past weekend. A veritable heaven on earth.
As some of you may know (and you would if you read my blog regularly, and if you don't, shame on you), Mr. Handsome and I celebrated 18 years of wedded bliss on Aug. 31. Yes, I said 'wedded bliss'. Stop laughing.
And on that day of celebration, we did nothing. Nothing. As in, nothing. Mr. Handsome has been working very hard, and I've been lolling about doing nothing but whining and watching Jon and Kate Plus 8 reruns, so there was no time or energy for any kind of celebrating. Well, I did get Mr. Handsome a dozen beautiful roses, but whatever.
So, last week crawled by, as weeks do when you're not working, looking for work, praying for work, and eating bonbons while you watch the dog snore. And no celebrating did we do, because, like I said, we were busy. Very busy. So, instead, we planned on going out for a very nice dinner to a very nice restaurant here in town. And I could hardly wait. Because I don't get out often. I only get a pass once a month. Just kidding. Seriously though, Mr. Handsome and I don't manage to get out on our own that often, so this was a major treat.
Saturday came, and I made my coffee and sat on the couch reading the paper, as I often do on a Saturday morning. And then, Mr. Handsome came downstairs and, in the way only Mr. Handsome has, he nonchalantly said, "So, you'd better start getting ready."
Clueless and oblivious, I ignored him and kept reading the paper.
So, then Mr. Handsome said, "Uhhh, you'd better get ready."
And then I noticed he was speaking, and I said, "What?"
So, Mr. Handsome said, "You'd better start getting ready."
To which I replied, "For what?"
And Mr. Handsome said, "You'd better get packing, because we're going away for a couple of nights."
And I was all WHAT?!! and WHAT THE F*&K ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, DUDE?! and after wiping up the coffee that I had spurted all over the living room carpet, and changing my underwear, I asked him what in hell's name was he talking about. And he just smiled, and would not say another word.
So, apparently, Mr. Handsome had this planned, like, a year ago, but a certain nephew decided he was going to be born then, so that plan went out the window because the only way this plan of Mr. Handsome's was going to work was if Grandma babysat the children, and Grandma was going to be in Toronto with the new baby. Life as we all knew it halted for a while when Oscar came into being.
Anyway, no bitter feelings here. Nope. None at all. Just because we had to wait A WHOLE YEAR to take a little vacay?! Nah. No problem. Whatever.
So, Mr. Handsome decided this would be the year that it would happen. This would be the year that he would surprise me and take me away on a romantic weekend, totally unbeknownst to me. And let me just say that it takes A LOT to plan something without me knowing it. Around here, I'm known as The Sherriff. Why? Because nothing gets past me. Nothing. This, however, got past me.
And so, I had two hours in which to pack for our weekend away. And, of course, because this was a total surprise, I got all stressed out and started pulling out my hair, because Mr. Handsome would not give me any information about where we were going, what we were doing. Nothing. So, I had no idea what to pack, which is inconceivable. Do I pack a blowdryer? I asked him. Oh, you might want to, he would reply. How about warm clothing? Cool clothing? Runners? Dressy shoes? His answers were pretty much all the same, which is to say they were not helpful in the least. Non-committal, generalized, and not the least bit helpful. Which made my pits sweat, my brow furrow, and my throat close up.
So, I packed a little of everything, and hoped for the best, because I decided that I can rise above this stress of not knowing and just roll with it. That's right. I rolled with it, people.
And, at 1:47 p.m., we were off. Where? I had no idea. All I knew was that we were going away, and the kids and pets would be taken care of by Grandma. And after worrying for about 3.42 seconds, I sat back, closed my eyes and relaxed.
Stay tuned for the continuation of Rollin', Rollin', Rollin' ...
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