Tomorrow, we're flying to Seattle for a few days to get out of the almost 100 degree weather of our desert home town. If it doesn't rain while we're there, I'm jumping off the hotel balcony. Okay, there is no balcony.
But if there was, I swear I'd do it.
Tonight, we're packing, which means I wander around, throw clothes on the bed and spend most of my time deciding what perfume to take. If I wasn't sick of thinking about perfume, I'd recite my selections now.
To help us with this process, B-man put together a packing list on his computer. Actually, he did this years ago, and it has morphed over time. For example, the list used to have 'blow dryer' and 'iron' on it, but now hotels provide those items.
Yes, I am that old.
Sitting in the kitchen tonight, I'm eating cheese and crackers like it's the last meal I'll ever have when B-man says, 'do you have an umbrella?'
Me: 'Huh?'
B-man: 'Is your umbrella in the car?'
Me: 'I thought you had them.' (We agreed to take two after an umbrella sharing fiasco the last time we visited The Emerald City.)
B-man: 'No, you always have an umbrella in your car - do you want me to go get it?'
Me: 'Sure, whatever.'
He goes out to the car and comes back in.
B-man: 'Look, it's not my job to get the umbrellas.'
Me: 'I don't expect you to get the umbrellas.'
B-man: 'I don't want to take care of all that.'
Me: 'Fine.'
B-man: 'You have a list.'
Me: 'Great, you take care of yourself.'
B-man hates that I don't follow the list when I'm packing - then I end up needing his sweatshirt or using his deodorant...or wearing his Gris Clair.
Of course, a pre-trip hissy fit is expected. But now, the umbrella storm has passed and we're on Big Red, drinking wine and having a happy snack. All is well.
Image from clotheslineblog.com
So very happy you are getting away to the land where water does indeed sometimes fall from the sky! Hope you get to use your umbrella too, just because. Have a blast!
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