When the cat's away

Gabriella has been in Vegas all week for work. Vegas for work. Did you ever write or type a word and look at it over and over again thinking, “I’m sure that’s how you spell it, but it just doesn’t look right”? The phrase Vegas for work is like that for me. If Gabriella were a different person, I might have hired a private investigator to shadow her every move. I could have bugged her blackberry or sewn a surveillance camera into her knickers. But Gabriella is not the carousing type. That said, I probably should have sewn a surveillance camera into her knickers for my own personal amusement. Perhaps I’ll work on that for the next business trip.

She called as soon as she got into her hotel room because she’s a dutiful wife and misses me terribly when we’re apart, bless her cotton socks.

Gabriella: Look at that. You can see the Hooters Hotel from my window. Who knew they had a hotel?

Deborah: Bet the pillows are nice.

G: Or really stiff.

gratuitous Hooters shot

D: You’re getting reimbursed for everything, yes?

G: Yes, of course.

D: Do hookers give receipts?

G: They probably do in Vegas.

D: I wonder where they attach the meter. Is receipt tape water proof? Speaking of hookers, what’s the plan for tonight?

G: I’m going to unpack and relax. I’ve got back to back meetings tomorrow.

D: I’m going flip through the channels and find a show about Siamese twinned little people.

Gabriella does not care for this genre of programming whereas I am inspired by people overcoming obstacles. For Gabriella, it’s a mother thing. She starts imagining what it would be like if her own children had physical challenges, and then she gets all upset and yells at me to change the channel. I find watching the news far more disturbing. Senseless violence and corrupt politics upset me almost as much as the news anchors who are actually aliens from far away worlds trying unsuccessfully to walk seamlessly amongst us. [shudder]

When Gabriella is out of town, I am exhausted. I’m in over-drive with the kids. I try to keep us all busy so that the time goes by quickly while still squeezing in the essentials like meals and homework and laundry. Parents get a bad rap for over-scheduling their children, but I’d like to stand up for all of us who are simply trying to get through each day. You can’t assume we’re taking our kids to this class and that one because we’re trying to guarantee places in Ivy League schools. Believe you, me, our kids are not on that track. OUCH!! I just felt Gabriella kick me in the shin all the way from Vegas. She does not care for the cracks I make about our children’s limitations. Thing is, I love them just the way they are-even if they are on the simple side. She’s going to hurt me when she gets home. I think I’m already starting to bruise. My point is that children need to stay busy or else everyone gets stir-crazy and cranky and bad things happen. And when Mommy is out of town, we get busy. I’m knackered.

The Mrs. arrives late tonight only to leave for work early tomorrow morning. I might not have the opportunity to confess the obscene amount of money I spent at Staples during her absence. You’d never know it to look at my desk, but I actually love organizing. I can’t explain it, but I experience a not insignificant, spiritual high when the automatic doors at Staples part and eagerly invite me in to the sacred temple of administrative accessorization. I envision life-changing systems and colour-coded simplicity in each and every aisle, and I understand the meaning of inspiration. Too much, you say? You can’t put a price tag on the grateful smile on Asher’s face when I presented him with the special box I bought specifically for his Bakugan collection. ...should I? Ok, if you insist. Yes it’s true about the apple that doesn’t fall from the tree when it comes to our appreciation of special boxes. Speaking of special boxes, I’d better clean up a bit before Gabriella gets home. Wouldn’t want her to think I let things go while she was away.

special boxes