Ian had to go to France for a week. That's right...THIS week, over the Fourth of July. See, Ian is a yacht salesman, and one of the sailboat lines he sells--Jeanneau--is French-made. They had their annual dealer meeting in Nantes, France, and someone over yonder had the uncanny inclination to schedule it OVER THE FOURTH OF JULY. Really. I love the French and all (after all I AM part French,) but nothing says "Fuck you, American!" like scheduling an important meeting overseas during a major American holiday.
Whatever. I digress. In spite of an initial panic and breakdown, we survived his trip away--me alone with Marley, two-and-a-half; Holland, 1 month old; Pagoda, Pekingese dog; and Picasso, cat; (both with limited brain functionality.)
But no matter HOW well I try to keep it together during any of Ian's business trips, the shit always hits the fan. For your reading pleasure, I have listed the Top Six Things That Happen When My Husband Leaves Town.
1. My computer goes on the fritz. As soon as my husband crosses the county line, my computer takes a shit. The internet goes down, it gets infected with a virus, or it shuts down...and doesn't restart. GOOD TIMES.
2. Someone throws up and/or has diarrhea. (Bonus points if I step in it.) This time, Marley threw up...poor thing got the stomach flu. She puked all over herself, the bed, and the bathroom...multiple times. The dog got diarrhea.
3. The cat runs away. Nothing gives Picasso more pleasure than hearing me frantically call his name down the block. He always runs away for at least a day whenever Ian leaves town. I wouldn't worry so much, but we have possums the size of baby elephants that roam our complex at night, and I just KNOW they want a piece of him.
4. Some key appliance stops working. This trip, our Zanzibar Bouncer took a shit. This happens to be Holland's favorite baby device, and it is where she takes most of her naps. The "soothing vibration" feature simply stopped working. Yay.
The Zanzibar Bouncer
5. The "Check Engine" light goes on in my car. Nuff said.
6. A swarm of angry bees attacks our townhome. Seriously. This happened on Friday. A giant pile of buzzing, freaky, festering bees took up residence on our driveway by the bougainvillea. Soon it grew to a swarm, and of thousands of the little creatures began hurling themselves at our windows. I was so scared the little buggers would squeeze through a hole in the screens that I was forced to close up all of our doors and windows and was held captive with two fussy kids indoors on an 80-degree day. Yeah!
Does the shit hit the fan when YOUR husband leaves town? If so, please share!