Husband of the year

DISCLAIMER: I did not write this story and will not confirm nor deny the events that occured below. I swear I am a nice person...most of the time ;-) ~Kelly

By Nick


This holiday season, Kelly flew to wonderful Massachusetts and back while I did the Cannonball Run with the SUV so I could transport the dogs and the copious amounts of gifts that the grandparents imparted on the kids. Both sets of grandparents and the aunts and uncles respected our wishes for smaller presents this year by providing Siena and Jack with a giant six foot wagon that actually has CUP HOLDERS (you know for when that milk bottle or sippy cup is just too darn heavy), a large stroller for DOLLS, and a shopping cart along with 137 different mock food items so that Siena and Jack can have a well-balanced mock diet. That certainly wasn’t all that the two received – there were also 2,427 Dora the Explorer items and a metric ton of clothing. I digress. My whole point is that I arrived in NC three days before Kelly did.

It was a crisp Tuesday afternoon, only 34 minutes past the 12:00, when Kelly called me. She had just landed. I had put the kids’ car seats in the night before so that there would be no delays in getting her. She had been traveling alone with two kids and tons of bags since about 6AM, and I knew she would be exhausted.

I called her from the car – I was five minutes out. She was still waiting for her bags, so I sped into a sandwich shop, knowing she’d be hungry, and grabbed her a sub. Man, I was doing everything right today! This was a nice reminder to her of how lucky she was to have me – I was going to win some mad points.

I pulled up just as she was coming outside – exactly on time. She wouldn’t have to wait a single second. I am good, good, good!

I smugly hopped out of the car, gave Kel a kiss, hugged Siena and put her in the car, and loaded all the bags. Kelly came around the other side to strap Jack in. I’d have her home in minutes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Kel suddenly said.

“What?” I responded.

As she looked at me with those I can’t believe I married you – how do you manage to generate enough brain function to breathe and eat without hurting yourself you giant worthless moron eyes, Kelly said, “Where’s his car seat?”

I suck.

I had strapped in the base of Jack’s seat, but didn’t bring the actual seat. I have no good reason for this. All points were instantly lost.

As I stood at the brink of divorce or murder at my wife’s hands, I offered a solution – “It’s not far, can we drive with you holding him in the back seat?” After all, I thought, that’s the way we all grew up before this whole baby seat thing – how bad can it be?
If I thought Kelly was going to hand me my lungs before, it was now definite.

“You want me to put my son in this car in this rain without a car seat? Never mind that if you get caught, you could go to jail, and we could lose our kids. Is that what you want?”

Awesome. I was now Michael Jackson – precariously holding my kid over the railing. After the car ride, I was going to grab Siena and we were going to play Russian Roulette, or maybe wrestle some snakes, or put her head in an alligator’s mouth. I was hemorrhaging points that I didn’t even have now – this was getting ugly. My fear of leaving Kelly and my son at the airport was now trumped by the graphic imagery and prison sentence she had just promised me. I was heading back home with Siena. Kel and Jack were waiting.

Apologizing profusely as I prepared to drive away, I heard the not-so-subtle threat from Kel: “Do not let Siena fall asleep in this car. If she doesn’t get a nap in today…”

She never finished the sentence, but I had a feeling it didn’t end with “I’ll make you a great dinner and let you go out with the boys tonight!” No problem – I’d keep her up.
As I drove off and merged onto the highway – I looked into my rearview right into shut eyes. Oh. God.

“Siena!”

She drowsily looked up.

“What is your dog’s name?”

“Diesel,” she whispered.

“And your other dog?” I yell.

“Woxy” she fades.

For the next 20 minutes I sang, yelled, danced, left the steering wheel and surfed on the car, lit off firecrackers, and banged pots and pans that I stole from a beggar on the side of the road to keep that kid awake. Simultaneously, I called my buddy Tom. There was no way she’d make it another five minutes, never mind to the airport and back without passing out. I needed help.

Tom arrived just as I had put Siena to bed. I sprinted out the door, grabbed Jack’s car seat, and was back on the road, driving -speed redacted to avoid prosecution- mph to the airport. I was just pulling around the bend to the terminal when my phone rang – it was Kelly.

“How far out are you?” she asked firmly.

“I am just pulling in now!”

“Oh,” she responded. My speed had won me back a half a point.

I pulled up and Kelly came out. She was about to put Jack into his seat when she noticed Siena was gone.

“Where is she?” she shouted.

A smart man would have realized that he had already exhausted his wife’s patience. I am not a smart man. Instead of telling her that Siena was with Tom, I opted to make a face like I had forgotten to bring her back with me.

As I dodged punches and kicks to the police officer at the airport’s amusement, I explained that I was kidding and that she was asleep and that Tom was there with her.


There goes my half a point…