John, "This is a really nice house."
Me, "I know. We should buy it."
John, "I was thinking more along the lines of 'we should come back' and not so much 'we should take on an additional 600k in debt.'"
Me, "Pfft, tomato, tomahto."
It was on the smaller size but nicely done up. I could stay there with the dogs and John could visit on weekends. The boys would, naturally, be sent off to military school. It needed new kitchen cabinets but there were only 5 or 6 so it wouldn't cost much. And we'd have to replace the closet in the master bedroom with the same closet at our house. I could volunteer at the aquarium and spend my days feeding the octopi.
John, "We're not buying the house."
Me, "Ugh, it's like you don't want me to be happy."
We had a great weekend. Very relaxing. Went to the beach. Went to the aquarium. I only have one task; to get a sweatshirt for my friend, Tina. She had ruined her Monterey sweatshirt in a freak cooking oil accident. I found a replacement and settled back for another glass of wine.
Come Sunday we, sadly, had to pack up and head home. What is it about road trips that make one so tired upon your return home? Whether you drive 9 hours or 90 minutes, you arrive home exhausted. And we did. We pulled into the driveway, ready for a nap. But, damn, we forgot about John's car. When we left on Friday, I had picked the boys up from school, drove to John's office to get him and then we left town. Leaving John's car at the office, to be picked up on the way pack into town. Well, shit. Better go get it now before I do something stupid like offer to drive him to the office at 7am the next morning.
So we unloaded the car, piled everything in the garage and asked the boys to take it all into the house. John even clarified that the bags should be put into the appropriate rooms. Ah, good thinking. Otherwise everything would have been dropped unceremoniously in the laundry room. (I could hear it already, "What?! We brought it all in!! JEEZ!") Then we left to get John's car.
I thought nothing more of things for a few days, until I was ready to mail off Tina's sweatshirt. Sooo, where's the sweatshirt? Hmmm... I looked through my closet, all my drawers, checked the laundry, the car, the luggage, all the rooms, lifting blankets and pillows.....Nowhere to be found...."Guys, have you seen the grey sweatshirt that I got for Miss Tina?"
Boys, "Huh?"
Me, "The grey sweatshirt from Monterey? Can you look in your rooms?"
Boys, 'It's not here!"
Me, "I need you to actually look for it. Not stand in the middle of the room and casually glance around."
Boys, "It's not here!"
Me, "Come on, you guys emptied the car."
Boys, "I didn't see a grey sweatshirt."
Boys, "I don't remember a grey sweatshirt."
Boys, "Are you sure there was a grey sweatshirt?"
Boys, "What grey sweatshirt?"
Boys, "Did you bring in a grey sweatshirt?"
Boys, "I didn't carry in a grey sweatshirt."
Boys, "Are you sure you bought a grey sweatshirt?"
Boys, "There was no grey sweatshirt!"
<Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale.>
Me, "Can you just look for it?"
Then Tom walks into my bedroom, points at John's grey sweater that is neatly folded and laying on the foot of the bed. The only item in the room that was not neatly in it's place.
Tom, "Is that it?"
Me, "That's not even a sw....do you honestly think I didn't l.....Are you....."
<More deep breath. Inhale. Exhale.>
Me, "Please leave the room. I need to swear."
None of this would be happening if I were living in my little cottage in Monterey...
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