It's not everyday or every week in this case, that you get locked in a house with two stir crazy children, a wife who has no patience, and 60 mile an hour winds and sideways rain pouring down - thank god.
My children are busy shooting each other with rubber bands and Nerf dart guns, my wife has finally made it out of her pajamas, and me, I just went to the gym - I have this rule where I have to pay my body 255 minutes per week of physical exercise - as it stands, I owe my body 13 more minutes, and I think (if I can get my wife to move from the bed to a standing position for more than 15 minutes) that some afternoon abdominal yoga might be in order (I love those perky breasted yoga instructors on the FitTV on Demand feature - they make me feel like shit, but hell they are so positive about it!)
Right now, we are under a tornado warning - rotation has been sighted within 5 miles of the house, and with any luck, maybe I will get a new roof out of this entire ordeal - and I may actually be able to convince my wife to get out of the house...(then again if we lose just half of the roof, with my luck it will be the part that covers everything but the bedroom, and in that case, well 24 more hours stuck in fucking paradise).
Let's dream about that perfect afternoon for a while, humor me. I want to be in a car pulling up on Second Avenue right about now - things are ready, a simple backpack with clean underwear, some extra blue jeans, a passport, a bottle of white wine and a six pack of coors light, a couple of candy bars, a few cd's, some smart food popcorn, and a full tank of gas. The kids are lined up and away - we said our goodbyes and gave our hugs, and now we are going to wander. I like to wander. Maybe a drive north across the border, maybe out into the desert, maybe we go to the airport and catch the cheapest flight we can find to anywhere - but we just go. It does not have to be planned, and does not have to be perfect, but ending up in the Super 8 motel somewhere near North Dakota with you sounds like a place to be - or maybe even the Drury Inn somewhere in the middle of Arkansas - who cares - just going and being sounds like the perfect weekend. Then again, a short nap at the Gasworks and a couple of rented movies, an hour or two burying the kids up to their waist at the beach, a sandwich and a salad, those sound pretty good too. It is nice in my mind - the weather outside of my mind sucks, but the forecast is pretty damn good between my ears -
I want a perfect afternoon, and I want everyone who can read this to have one too...
A demain mon ami.
George
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