Last week I went on vacation to visit my sister for her 50th birthday. As mentioned in my previous post, she is my much OLDER sister, double digit older to be exact. Ha! Just teasing with you sis! well, the older part IS true but LUFF U!
Anyhoodle, my flight left on Monday morning at 10:30am, which wouldn’t have been a big deal if I didn’t have to work the previous night at the bar until 2:30 am. At some point Sunday night/Monday early morning I sent a text to Dave, who was dropping me off at the airport in the morning, to pick me up one of those 5-Hour Energy drinks because I was pretty sure I was going to need it.
Monday morning comes and I drag my tired butt outta bed and pack the last of my things and Dave is waiting in my drive at 9:00 am with Energy Drink in hand. We’re not even out of my driveway and I’ve downed the shot to make sure I get my energy on. A little back story here, I AM NOT A MORNING PERSON IN ANY WAY.SHAPE.OR.FORM. Dave? Lately? Is. He also goes to bed before most toddlers even go to bed and I have always been a night owl. Example: It’s 1:45AM as I’m writing this.
Back to my point (I have one I promise). I figured Monday morning he’d be all “are you excited about your vacay?” or “I can’t wait to properly train those things you call your dogs” getting me all worked up because I’d be tired and cranky, but it was the complete opposite. I don’t know if it was the energy drink or not, but by the time we had gotten on the highway (which was about 5 minutes after we left my house) I was moving (and talking) at mach 10 and he looked like he had just come off an all night binge. He told me that he hadn’t slept at all the night before and he? was.not.happy. about that. Meanwhile, I’m like the speed racer of conversation. A lot of run-on sentences and conversations (giving him the entire play by play of the night before at the bar.) and by his complete silence and ignoring of me, I could tell I was a little more annoying than my usual self.
I’m finishing my detailed instructions on how to properly pamper my pooches while I’m gone as he turns into the airport entrance. As he enters the designated "departing flights" area I notice the car in front of us license plate reads: “1892” and because I’m conversing at the speed of light, I say out-loud “In 1892 Columbus sailed the ocean blue” and giggle/smirk at Dave because I’m all 'how smart am I right now on only 3ish hours of sleep?'
As I wait for him to applaud my smartness (more back story here: he’s Nerdy Mc. Reads-a-lot-of history stuff, and I’m more of a weekend Real Housewives marathon kinda girl). Anyway, he just looks at me and says “Tell me you know the correct year (that Columbus sailed the ocean blue).” - I HAVE to say the whole thing - I don't know why....
Crickets. I start to think. “It was 1892 that Columbus sailed the ocean blue (see?) wasn’t it? There’s even that stupid Kellogg’s Frosted Wheat commercial – it WAS 1892 because that little wheat guy said it right? And really? Why would someone have a license plate that said 1892? I hate it when people have license plates that you can't figure out! (I may be a little ADHD) OMG. I really, really don’t know when Columbus sailed the damn ocean blue!!. I need to focus, I have a plane to catch and I have got to KNOW the answer.
Trying to concentrate, I sit there as he pulls up to the curb and gets out. I get my ID and boarding pass together and get out of the truck. At this point he is not only tired, but now annoyed, disgusted and just plain irritated with me. He basically heaves my suitcase onto the curb and gets back in his truck to take off.
I’m still thinking about Columbus as I grab my suit case and start to head into the airport, then I see all these people who are getting dropped off just like me. Some of them are hugging and kissing good-bye. All of a sudden I realize that I’m leaving and won’t see him for like 5 days. I turn and yell for him to stop. I race to the passenger side of his truck and say to him: “Wait!
.
.
.
.
When DID Columbus sail the ocean blue?"
He just looks at me with this face and says: “It was 1492 you fucking dumbass!” and drives off.
Phew! That would have been one.long.plane-ride.
