It's my husband.
He has been the official road trip planner for our 4th of July departure.
I gave him a simple criteria for his planning.
Absolutely NO driving days longer than 8 hours.
I received his travel spread sheet a few days ago.
A travel spread sheet.
Phoenix, Arizona to Twin Falls, Idaho.
811 miles. Projected driving time. 12 1/2 hours.
"What's this?" I inquired sweetly.
"Didn't it come through right? Twin Falls. Idaho."
"Ummm..." I continued, "What happened to driving 8 hours a day MAXIMUM?"
"Oh, yeah. I forgot."
"Okay," I said in my most understanding wife voice. "If we're going to be in Twin Falls then we can meet my friend, Dawn, in the morning for coffee."
Mr. Jenny paused.
"Well. We probably can't. See day two?"
I looked at day two.
372 miles. Projected driving time. 6.3 hours.
"That'll work, won't it? We can visit Dawn in the morning?"
"Well," Mr. Jenny continued, "On Thursday morning we're stopping in Middleton for a business meeting."
"Business meeting?" I said in a slightly crankier voice. "Business meeting? And what am I supposed to do while you're in a business meeting?"
"Well, it's actually at someone's house there. You know so and so and so and so, right? We're going to stop there for coffee?"
"Coffee? Coffee? What am I supposed to do?"
"Well, their wives will be there. You'll like them."
"How do you know I'll like them? How can I possibly go to a coffee meeting with wives of business people when I am bowlegged?" If you missed the entire disturbing bowlegged tale, just click here to be shocked and appalled.
Mr. Jenny sighed.
I think he was surprised I was still discussing the whole bowlegged thing. As if I will be forgetting that anytime soon. Geez.
"It'll be fun. And besides, everyone likes you."
Well gosh. The guy does have a point!
(insert sarcastic laugh here)
Mr. Jenny tried to distract me. He showed me a nifty little map he had made for a detour to a pretty lake with a teensy little cabin at some place called Wallowa where he made reservations for Thursday night.
I graciously acquiesed to attending the business meeting. How could I possibly resist the allure of a place called, 'The Sugar Cabin.' Although after driving 18.3 hours AND trying not to freak out about being bowlegged in front of people I've never met before, I'm not sure how sweet I'm planning to be.
(insert evil laugh here)
"So," I snarled, "At what point do I get to see the baby?"
"Baby?" Mr. Jenny replied.
"Yes, Baby! As in Quinn. As in Grandson! As in the reason for this road trip?"
"I know about the baby. You don't have to rip my head off." Mr. Jenny snarled back. "Don't you see day 3?"
404 miles. Projected driving time. 7.0 hours.
"Seven hours? SEVEN HOURS? Does this take in time to pee? Am I allowed to pee? Or do I have to pee in a jar so we can make it in SEVEN HOURS? Oh. Yeah. It would probably work just fine for me to pee in a jar because I'm BOWLEGGED!"
Mr. Jenny glared at me.
I mean. In a totally ticked off way.
"Will you just let this whole bowlegged thing go?"
"No!" I snapped. "No, I will not! And, in fact, I'm not even going with you because I wouldn't want to subject you to driving 2,969 miles with a bowlegged woman!"
Yeah. That will teach him. I'm not hormonal or anything. Really.
Mr. Jenny looked defeated.
"Okay, look. See? Days 3, 4, 5 and the morning of 6 you will get to see the baby. See?"
"Look! Baby time. See? And look. On the way home we're going to go to Santa Cruz and stay with Sue. And maybe see the other Sue. Let's just finish talking about this later."
The Sugar Cabin? Baby time? Sue? Maybe the beach?
Okay. I was mollified.
Until I looked at the last day.
Santa Cruz, California to back home.
734 miles. Estimated driving time. 10.4 hours. 10.4 hours!!!!
I opened my mouth to comment to Mr. Jenny.
Oddly, he had disappeared from my office.