Something as simply going to the store can be treacherous. It all seems fine when we get into whichever vehicle we decide we should take, his or mine. Of course, it’s generally his truck because my car immediately causes him discomfort. After 5 minutes he is generally squirming in his seat like a toddler that needs to pee. Yet, he won’t complain until the 5th or 6th time that I ask (pry) what is wrong out of him. It is generally, “I hate your car its so uncomfortable.” Well, I hate it too. I had a perfectly good suburban that was loaded with all the great features like it cared about me. I could start it up and it always wanted to make me comfortable, it remembered how I like to sit, where my mirrors were best suited to protect me, and the best part… It could tell if it was too hot or cold outside and cool the SUV or warm the seats for MY comfort. But those days are gone. Why? Well WE needed a boat and the payment didn’t coincide with keeping my SUV so I downsized to a tiny ass Malibu that doesn’t even have room for my multitude of CD’s. Keep in mind, I need my CD’s. I love to sing in the car… oh yeah it had a Bose sound system too. I miss that, I really miss that. UGH …
So, we get to where we are going this morning and I mention, since we are by ourselves which never happens, I’m hungry. What does he do? Drives past a perfectly fine cracker barrel. I was sad again this morning. I really wanted my standard order of ole’ timers with eggs sunny side up, bacon, hash brown casserole, and biscuits and gravy. But more than that, I wanted to be alone just us together and a restaurant full of people we didn’t know.
I just don’t know how to get on the same page. It’s like I’m reading a romance novel and he’s reading One Fish, Two Fish. Lord help me make it through this realization!