As I am preparing to go on this month long journey I worry
. Will I come back and all of his clothes are pink? I have yet to show him how to use the washing machine or the dryer. Will he eat all over the house? I will not be around to pick up the random crumbs. Will he just put sauce on spoiled food and call it a meal? Spaghetti and Shrimp Scampi is all he knows how to cook. Will he wear those gray-faded-everyday shorts (that I have to hide for a day just to get them washed) for the entire time that I am gone? Who will he sit and watch random T.V. shows with. Will he constantly watch sports, resorting to competitive jump rope (it happened one time because that is all that ESPN was showing) Will he just get untrained and go rogue? I have put years into making sure that he is nagged into submission and would rather do something that he hates just so he "doesn’t have to hear my mouth." Will I come back and have to go on that Clean House show where a group of experts tells me that I have been living in filth? I run a tight ship. A clean ship and I am scared that it may not stay that way. Most of all I worry will he miss me.
If my husband learns how to operate the washing machine and is aware of the towel and the sheet changing schedule and pays attention to the brands of lotion and soap and toothpaste that magically appear when he needs them. Will he need me anymore? When he discovers that he can watch sports 24 hours a day, without having to hit pause so I can randomly belt out a song or give a complaint or go off about something that probably wasn’t his fault…will he want me to come home?
So as I prepare to take this trip, I am excited. I am also a little scared, not that I will be kidnapped by drug lords or have a bad time, but mostly that my husband may be shacked up with our Mexican cleaning lady when I return and I will have to kill them both. Costa Rica here I come.
It would seem that a travel blog would really be about travel. The thing is, it seems to me that it also has a lot to do with what you leave at home. If you are on the road, perhaps you have children, or pets, or in my case…a very dependent spouse. It is normally fine with me. We take care of each other. We assume the traditional male/female roles. He is the bread winner and protector and I am the domestic. I make sure that he never knows the pain of an empty underwear drawer. The plates and glasses are always in the same place. The sheets and towels are always changed on the appropriate day. Toothpaste, lotion and soap are always there and occasionally I make sure that there is a nice (made-from-scratch) cake in the glass cake dish on the kitchen counter. We have an agreement that I don't take out the trash or touch the grill…he doesn’t touch the washing machine or cleaning supplies. It works. We live in this domestic harmony that we both enjoy.