I hope you are having fun in Colorado during your 8 day elk hunt trip.
Your little hunt trip left us with no communication – no cell signal, no land line, no internet. Nothing.
You could very well be whimpering on the side of a mountain with another blown out knee because your horse bucked you off. Or maybe you are in an epic battle with a bear using only a shotgun because I won’t let you get a handgun. I know for a fact that you stink because your only way of showering is poking a hole in a bag of water you heat over the stove. Or maybe I’m a widow because a moose trampled over you and your 4 friends. Do moose even attack? Who knows.
Since you put yourself in a black hole, I will slam you over the head with highlights from my week. You’ll see stars.
- First of all – your absence guarantees one all-nighter with both girls throwing up. It’s like magic! I should really be put under a microscope and studied – I can see the damn future every time you leave. We had Chipotle for dinner. Corn was flying.
- Other illnesses? Emma had nose bleeds almost every night. For once, WebMD told me not to freak out. We took zombie pictures with blood dripping from her nose and down her face. I am pleased to see our daughter is sick in the head like myself.
- Emma and Kate were out of school 5 out of the 8 days you were gone. Oh, wait. Bonus! 6 days because they got a sick throw-up day! YAY! The wine rations you left me with were pathetic. Those were gone by day 2.
- I let the surrounding neighbors know you would be gone for 8 days with no contact. I granted them permission to be nosy neighbors by keeping an extra eye on the house. They were also on-call if there was some sort of emergency. Like running out of wine.
- Job well done in the ‘hood! I was only texted one night. The garage door was left open late at night. I’m sure the girls forgot to shut it after playing outside. Or, you know, wine.
- Despite all this wine talk, I was on my best behavior for the weekend. The girls were in bed early. We went out for ice cream. We had a movie and pedicure night. We slept in. We made biscuits and gravy for dinner. We went to the pumpkin patch. We dabbled into the Halloween candy. And then your daughters refused to go to the gym with me – every day. My guns are deflated, Scott. This is causing my muscles to twitch.
- I hired a babysitter so I could have a few summer beers at Dub V’s with Melanie. The fact that it was 11 am is besides the point. Hey, the owner said he wants some elk jerky when you get back. Melanie negotiated an elk jerky – summer beer trade. That’s some serious Oregon Trail bartering for goods, right there. Mel and I can lead the simple, rustic life too.
- I broke the blinds over the window next to our master toilet. They damn near hit me in the head. I’m really lucky to be alive. Anyway, you know how I told you that the neighbors were keeping an extra eye on our house? HA! Well, yeah. You know I hate going to the bathroom in the dark, Scott.
- Oh, one more thing you need to fix when you get back: one of the girls threw down several pairs of underwear from upstairs. A couple of them landed inside the entryway light. I can’t reach them. And I refuse to turn on that light. I’m terrified at the thought of a firefighter telling me our house is burnt down because of burning underwear. I’m getting visions of the teenage years.
- I would add for you to fix my Bose System in the bathroom but that’s a false alarm. The speaker just flat out stopped working. How am I supposed to practice MJ’s Thriller dance for Halloween? I was freaking out, Scott. I was about to call the Colorado park ranger to go find you. Then I realized I was pushing the volume button all the way down. I thought I was restarting the song. I’m not very smart sometimes.
- Make sure you give your dog, Bailey, a hug. She escaped the fate of being a permanent outdoor dog. She brought me a tore up baseball. Cool! Look at this kids! Bailey wants to show you what a baseball looks like on the inside!
So call me when you come down from the mountain and read this. I can’t wait to run my fingers through your mountain man beard. Nice head start on no-shave November.
Oh. I started no-shave November too. You should be proud of your lumber jack legged wife for letting you hunt for 8 days with no contact. That’s what you like, right? The rustic, simple life?
Welcome home, Scott!