Such a rarity, but here it is. The Husband and Man-Child left for a weekend of male bonding.
Yes, you read that correctly. The Husband, of the Refuses to Relax and Unwind-kind, actually took his son on a weekend trip. I know! I'm as amazed as you are!
Well, if the truth be told, I booked the trip. Because, of course, I did. BUT, The Husband mentioned that it would be nice if he and Man-Child headed up to Smith Mountain Lake for his birthday - so like any sane and rational wife I took that to mean that I should just start scouting out a location to stay.
I found four possibilities right off the bat and forwarded them on - thinking, this is NEVER gonna happen.
And then? The Husband said he really liked the one and asked if I would book it. Between you, me and the wall, I about fell out of my chair. And then, when I didn't immediately reserve the place THAT VERY MOMENT, he told me I should book it before someone else did. (What alien life form had taken the place of my husband? In conversations since, we have determined, if the action involves spending, I am the one to pull the trigger because it is in his DNA to not spend it - unless it's on unnecessary groceries.)
Little did he realize, no one - and I mean NO ONE - is headed up to Smith Mountain Lake in the middle of November. Eventually, I booked the place and he was pleased. He even said, "I'm glad you did because I was having second thoughts...particularly about the cost." No surprise there.
And immediately after I booked the reservation the forecast changed. Until recently, our weather has been rather warm. As of today, the low tomorrow here will be 25 degrees, and we are significantly south of where the lake is located. Seriously, who goes to a summer destination in the winter? But, this is my husband - the man who is famous for going to a place known for their chicken and ordering the fish (and being extremely disappointed, I might add - when will he learn?! Chicken place - order the chicken!). He goes against the flow.
Now I sit in a house that is so quiet I can actually hear when the refrigerator kicks on and contemplating how I will spend my quiet time. No television blaring. No football. No loud conversations about football. Popcorn and wine for dinner. Pure bliss.
Without a doubt, by Sunday I will be ready for them to be home - but until then? Quiet - sweet, sweet quiet.