I should get this out there: living with the guy you’re crazy about is as awesome as it sounds. ilovemylife.
We got home at 1:30am on Saturday morning after choosing to push through the night so we could have a whole extra day to relax together when we woke up. We made record time from Texas and even took time to sit down for dinner and notice the stars on our way through (I saw three shooting stars that night).
coming home to our bed was wonderful, it was made, and just like my mama had always told me to, I’d left the little apartment we live in clean. My kitchen was sparkling and the den was clear (quite clear actually, since we had only a couch against the wall and an adorable old toy chest in the corner). We fell asleep in happy peace.
On saturday morning we got a call from one of our close friends asking if we could pick him up at the airport and take him back to base, which we did with little to no excitement, it was good to see him and hear stories of his leave.
Right after dropping him off, however, my retard side decided to kick in. We stopped to get gas on base and I decided while we were there I’d take a quick side trip to the bathroom. Naturally, I only decided to do so after the husband had gotten out of the car to go pay in his normal fashion. So, like a good little wife, I hopped out of the car and locked it to fend off any curious marines wanting to steal a basically empty 96 chevy silverado in the five minutes that we would be in the store… which was — serendipitously– closed, no bathroom, no cash paying… also no car keys, seeing as my husband, knowing that I was going to wait in the car, had left them there for me, as is our custom. So there we are on Camp Pendleton at the back gate, stuck. Very, very, stuck. So he calls a company to come and break us into our own car… and they would be there in an hour.
Though we have been known to be at times, the husband and I aren’t exactly the patient kind at times like these. I know I was testing all of his love in this minute, we were stuck — together. there was nowhere I could run to hide from a wrath that I surely deserved, idiot that I was being. He hugged me, laughed a little, raised his eyebrows, then jiggled the back window so that it opened three inches. I could get my arm in. He could get his arm in. Neither of us could reach the lock. So the awesome man unscrews his antenna. we persisted in attempting to use that wiry thing for a good 15 minutes, but to no avail. He stepped back… took a deep breath, got out the cleaning wipe and proceeded to clean the windshield of all of the dead bugs we had collected during our long road trip. Then he shook the thing down and handed it to me. We fit it into the truck and attempted again to press the button, to push the lock up, to bust through somehow. Again, the plan failed.
At this point I’d given up. We were gonna have to wait for the man, who was going to be later, and we were going to have to pay him. I put my forehead on the car window and tried not to laugh too hard at this misfortune. My husband walked away and kept walking until he got to the other side of the gas station and disappeared. “he hates me” I thought… “I’d hate me too” and then I laughed a little longer, because this was ridiculous. Two seconds later, he was back! With a new plan! (I told you, he’s superman.) He had a HUGE pvc pipe, it was skinny and really really long. He stuck that sucker in there pushed it all the way across the cab of the truck found the unlock button with it, and, after a little effort, we heard a satisfying “chink” and the doors were unlocked.
As we drove away I realized that this didn’t mean I was in the clear, who wouldn’t be seething? I looked out the window and tried hard to look as sorry as I really did feel. “I’m not mad at you,” he said “just a little frustrated. I’ve done it before too.” I continued gazing out the window, wondering why I suddenly felt like crying. Then I felt his fingertips on my arm “Hey, are you doin alright?” he asked. And there he was, taking care of me, even though I’d just been a crazy klutz and taken half an hour away from our scheduled day. We continued on our way in search of tactical gear and other exciting things. I learned something more about the guy I love so much… he loves me too, like enough to not even raise his voice, or huff around, or show any sort of frustration when he knows I already feel bad about where I screw up.
More fun lessons and times to come. I have so many awesome little stories from this, Memorial Day Weekend. Thank a vet.