My Wife Was Right, But I'll Never Tell

I like to wake up with a game-plan for the day.

I like to know that around 10:30 a.m. I should be hurling the kids into the car, yelling at the wife to hurry the hell up, and giving the neighbor the evil eye because he has no kids.

This is completely opposite from the wife who enjoys sleeping until the kids are on the brink of burning the joint down. Then, she’ll suddenly wake-up and spontaneously want to climb a mountain, start a 12-acre farm, make “something awesome out of bamboo,” and feed a small country.

If you ask her “how are we going to do that honey?”

The first response will always be, “See!!!! That’s what I’m talking about! You never want to do shit unless you planned it two months ago!!!”

So, I decided not to fight it this past Saturday.

We woke up, the wife immediately said, “We shall go to the hoity toity Farmer’s Market, get judged, and buy some kick-ass donuts!”

I said, “Yes dear.” And we went.

Near the end of our judged and be-judged fest, we came across a half-pint of blueberries for $5. Knowing the kids love blueberries I said, “hey sweet precious wife of mine. Shall we purchase said berries for our amazing offspring?”

Her eyes lit-up, the skies parted, angles sang “whaaaaaaaaa” as the wife proclaimed, “We shall go blueberry picking right now!!!”

I said, “Yes dear.” And we went.

A quick Android search and five minutes later and we were joyfully headed to Michigan City, Indiana…just over an hour away.

Eighteen kid fights later we arrive at the blueberry farm and start picking like champs.

Half-way through our molestation of rows of blueberry bushes I realized, “holy shit I’m actually having fun. And…and I didn’t plan any of this.”  But how was I going to keep it from the wife that she’s right – sometimes just doing shit on a whim really can be fun.

Six pounds of blueberries later and we’re piling back in the mobile. Pulling out on the road to head home we pass by sign pointing to all kinds of stuff around the area, one of which said, “Beach.”

“We shall totally go a beach along Lake Michigan!,” my darling wife proclaimed.

I said, “Yes dear.” And we went.

An Android search later and we were headed to find Mount Baldy in Indiana!

A climb to the top of a huge dune, a few tumbles down it, and a mass amounts of memories caught on still photos and our day was complete.

One hour later we’re home, kids tired, in bed, and wife nodding her head with approval at the fact we had a kick-ass time without a single damn plan of how the day would go.

And I’ll give her props. If I’d planned the day, we would have left by 6 a.m., cooler packed, MapQuested the hell out of everything within a 4 hour radius and a schedule would be firmly implanted in my head.

But I’ve got to admit…not having a plan and just enjoying the day was mighty damn nice. But I’ll never tell the wife that.

Gettin' Our Spontaneity-On

So the wifey and I had “that talk” again. Yeah…that one. The one where I’m all:

“We need some spontaneity in our sex life…”

And she’s all, “sponta-kiss my ass idiot-boy.”

“come on…don’t be like that…I’m just saying, sometimes I feel like kids are ruling our lives these days and we never get a..”

“Hold on..JUST HOLD ON!!.......what Grayson?” long pause….then “yes, I fed your fish just before you came up stairs…now go to bed!!” she then looks at me, “I’m sorry… you were rambling about some kind of ‘aneity’ or something…”

“Hey, we’re both dealing with this….and it sucks at times, but if we don’t…”

“Jesus..hold on…yes Macy?!!!” the wifey yells as she throws yet another layer of blankets over her… “Yes…you can read one more book, then GO TO BED!!!!” she then contorts her face into a well-crafted smart-ass face and says, “I’m sorry…you were trying to make me feel bad for not being a hardcore porno slut, wearing nighties, thongs, and knee-highs to help you get your rocks off…..please continue…”

“I…I uhhh…baby you look really nice tonight and I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate what you do for this family,” I say as I’m turning the channel from the MLB playoffs to Oxygen. “I can’t even remember the last time I went to bed without smelling your shirt and missing you like crazy.”

“Say the word ‘spontaneity’ again and I’ll fucking cut you….”

"Whoa!!!...let's not get crazy here, OK?...I just.."

"Did you really just call me crazy? Seriously...as I lay here on the couch, trying to relax for the first fucking time tonight....did you really...just...call..me...crazy? Cause if you did, I just want to be clear and understand correctly that you thought long and hard before selecting that word. I want to be sure, that in your tiny little brain, hidden deep within the beer, the Jennifer Anistons, the baseball, the football, the masturbating....that that's what you really thought was the smartest thing to say to me?"

"I uhhh.....yesterday we.....on Friday I was uhh.....Honey!!! I'd like to volunteer to make the kids' lunches and bathe them and put them to bed for an entire week....just for you!!!"

I sat there for what seemed like at least 30 minutes..but it was only 15 seconds before she said..."Oooohhh....I spontaneously just remembered we're out of peanut butter for the kids' lunches!!!"

It was raining that night when I had to run to the grocery store...and I have to give it to her...it was pretty spontaneous......