“You need a passport” were the first words my mother said to me in a recent phone call.
“Your husband is having entirely too much fun gallivanting around Europe on his business trip.”
Thanks to the magic of Facebook we are able to follow my husband’s exploits as he “gallivants” around Europe, actually Germany and a side trip to France just because. We have seen photos of the meals he’s eaten, the places he’s visited and the Mercedes S Class car he is driving. I hope he remembers he drives a Vibe in real life.
Coming home could be a let down. There is a speed limit on 490 and I won’t be wearing an outfit that looks like I stepped off of a bottle of St. Pauli Girl when I
serve him dinner pick up a pizza and his beer won’t be in a stein the size of a Big Gulp from 7-11.
He’ll be coming home to frustrating nights of homework, driving kids back and forth, hurried dinners, barking dogs and cat hair, lots of cat hair and a family that missed him a lot!
I soooo need to get my passport!