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Monday, May 3, 2010

Perfect Except.....

WHY OH WHY does my husband love to "see how far he can get?"
I have been asking myself this question since I was 16 years old. We were supposed to go out on a double date that night. I was supposed to meet him in town. Instead I received a phone call. He was stuck on some road somewhere in the middle of no where. His friend picked up the three of us in his truck and we headed out to a deserted dirt road miles from known civilization. Later, well after dark, the 4 of us were walking through deep mud trying to find a house so we could call somebody else. The truck had failed to pull out his Maverick and it was now stuck as well. The first people wouldn't let us use the phone. Possibly because it was midnight and some of us were inebriated. Okay I was inebriated at the time. I was a terrible teenager, but that is another story all together. I suppose I should have taken this event as a sign of things to come. Some where around 2 am my mother picked us all up......
As a young married woman, years later, I remember several times I was gone at college or work only to come home and find that my husband had walked several miles with little ones because he was stuck down some logging road. Usually, I was smart enough not to ride along on these expeditions. Once the car or truck started hitting pot holes, and the rocking motion began, my stomach would begin to turn. "Can't we please take a normal road to where we are going?" I would ask. What I fail to realize is : This is where we are going. Eventually, I would become angry, teary, and later on HYSTERICAL. Most of the time he and the kids were having the time of their life and the more stuck they got, the harder they laughed. This upset me all the more.
Every so often, my husband invites me along on one of his expeditions. He says something nonchalant like "wanna go for a ride?" Each time I forget his bizarre compulsion, and bite the bait. Such was the day before I began my stretch of shifts. We all packed sandwiches and some treats and loaded into the Tundra. I didn't notice that the winch was in the back of the truck, nor did I unsuspectingly notice a shovel. "Where are we going?" I ask. "I don't know" my husband tells me. Off we drive. Soon we are heading up a dirt road high up into the mountains. I am happy the family is on an outing. It never occurs to me that he wants to see "how far he can get" up a deserted mountain pass. I don't know if this is premeditated or not. I suspect it may be. Perhaps its like Miss Belly Fat, who cons me into eating all kinds of things I shouldn't. Maybe its because he only owns 4WD's. 4WD's have a reputation for loving trouble. They are like dogs begging to go out for a walk. "C'mon" says our Tundra, Polly, "Please oh please will you test my skills today?" "You never take me to where I want to go anymore" she pouts. I imagine she must nag and nag until he can take it no longer. "A continual dropping in a very rainy day and a contentious woman are alike." he tells her, but she will not stop her nagging. Finally, tired of hearing her complain, he veers off down "the road less travelled".
At any rate, the familiar lurch of my stomach and a splitting headache began to manifest as he decided to "see if he could make it through these drifts". As always, I remind him I don't want to get stuck up there with all the kids. As always he and the kids are propelled by some force foreign to my thinking. As always, despite my strong recommendations, he pushes on until you see these photos. He is having the time of his life, while I have become dangerously silent.
Some where in my mind, it is dark and days have gone by. Some one went for help and never returned. I am rationing out portions from the last sandwich to frightened children. Our truck has gone down the side of a cliff, and possibly an Alien Apocalypse has taken place.
Seeing my silent expressions of horror, the kids begin cracking jokes trying to lighten up the atmosphere. Art Dog begins to quote Robert Frost in a last ditch effort to appease me. "At least you'll have something to blog about" my husband suggests with a boyish twinkle in his eye.
Yes, my husband is the Perfect man. He is the kindest, sweetest, most handsome and strong, best friend, lover and father in the whole entire world. He is as perfect as a man can get, except for this one bizarre trait. Its his love of "the road less travelled". Do your men have any unusual compulsions?!

3 comments:

toytrkman said...

If only I hadn't taken off the winter tires a few weeks before. The summer street tires just don't do it in the snow. Actually, I was pretty calm that day and didn't press very far like a REALLY wanted to. If I would have had the good tires I probably would have tried to go a little further. What is an adventurous guy like myself suppose to do? Maybe some of the guys and myself will take the "Old Black Dog" up there and have some real fun. Maybe then I'll get to drag the winch and snatch block out to keep the truck from slipping down the gorge. I do remember when The Archer was a little boy he sometimes wouldn't go with me somewhere because he figured we would end up walking home. It has been a couple of years now since I've walked home though. That was when the 4 Runner was held by a rock in the door from tumbling down to the next road, that was definitely exciting!

Mr. Stupid said...

Nice post. I enjoyed reading it. A Car getting stuck in snow can be a real nightmare. It happened once when my dad was driving. But not in snow. In mud. And to make it even worse, it rained that day and a tow truck had to be called.

Have a good day!:)

Becky said...

Okay, my man admits he is a procrastinator. He has the uncanny knack of being able to ignore. Unfortunately, I do not share that knack. Also, he can be very forgetful regarding directions to places he has been before. When this occurs I then have to perform my GPS duties...but not with a British accent...rather a tone of irritation.