Help, I can’t get rid of my husband!
He’s supposed to be in Texas right now, yet there he is, upstairs, playing one of those computer games that makes hissy noises.
He texted me (good lord, when did I start using “text” as a verb?) from the airport to say his plane had gone awol and he’d booked a flight to Texas for tomorrow morning. And that he was coming back home. Based on past experience, I expected him to arrive in a state of full seething rage.
But no. It turns out he’s Mr. Mellow when he’s traveling on the company dime. Only when embarking on a relaxing vacation with his family do the inevitable annoyances of travel turn him into Mr. Hyde. Wtf?
Honey, next time we go someplace together, just pretend that a.) the company is paying for it, and b.) you will spend your time in over-air-conditioned offices teeming with engineers instead of engaging in the local tourist scene.
Have a nice flight.