I Will Turn This Car Around….

I was looking at My Honey today.  He looked weird.  Like he was off kilter or askew in some way.  I didn’t say anything to him.  I didn’t want to freak him out.  Besides, I figured it out on the way home from dinner.

We had gone to buy Valentines for the kids to give their classmates and, when we were finished, it just seemed easier to go get dinner. 

I’ve decided there needs to be another section in the restaurant.  Do you remember in the old days the hostess would ask you, “Smoking or Non-smoking?”  Now I respectfully request the “No Children” section.  Specifically, I’m referring to my children: the one who hollers at us and refuses to eat his dinner and drops 75 pieces of silverware on the floor over the course of one meal, and the one that won’t stop singing Miss Mary Mack incessantly.

In the car on the way home, I decided I wanted to get a trailer to hitch to the back of my Durango.  Like a little U-Haul trailer.  I’ll heat it in the winter and air condition it in the summer.  I’ll put some of that squishy foam all around the floor and the sides and fill it full of toys and those damn kids can ride back there and fight and spill food and yell all they want and I won’t have to referee it.

And that’s when I figured out what was wrong with My Honey.  One arm has grown another couple of inches so he can reach behind his seat to smack the kids while he’s driving. 

He’s my hero.