Hubs went to AZ for a 5 day golfing trip with his 4 buddies. They figured out where they were going but in actuality it was all the wives who obtained their airline tickets and paid the fees. The other wives packed for their husbands and got them ready except in my husband's case where I made him do it all on his own. I refuse to pack for a grown man. There is nothing wrong with his arms or legs. I even made him do his own laundry but in my defense I am not even 2 weeks post surgery and am non-weight bearing and basically, confined to bed.
We had words to begin with about his even scheduling this trip knowing full well when my surgery was but no one - NO ONE - gets between a golfing man and his golf ............ except rain. Every single time these guys go anywhere the rain follows them. Even their regular weekly golf game seems to have this rain effect too. They used to golf on Fridays and every Friday it would rain. They changed it to Thursdays and sure enough it would rain on Thursdays and be okay on Friday. So they moved golfing to Wednesday and yet again, the rain followed them. If any part of the country needs rain, just ask these guys to come to golf and I will bet you that it will rain there. (Kinda makes you wonder what they do on the course) - NOT.
So every day he would call me twice a day and do nothing but complain about the rain and cold. I played my violin for him. That is until yesterday and he only called late at night. Why you ask? Because it was 60 and sunny so he had nothing to complain about so he didn't call.
Earlier today I warned him there was a lake effect snow warning for 5-6 inches. Did he listen? Nope. Did he arrange his transportation home from the airport? Nope. Instead he lands, gets his luggage and decides to get a cab who wants to charge him $90 for the 15 mile trip to our house. So he calls me and asks me to call around and get something cheaper. I told him to walk. He didn't think that was funny. I did arrange a limo for him and his buddy for $50.00 which he could have done on his own.
But of course, as hubs and son would say: "That's a pink job". I say: "Oink Oink"!
