A funny thing happened this past weekend. My husband had to take a trip to Michigan to meet up with some old friends and music contacts, and I elected not to go. Well, let me back up a moment…
When my husband first told me that he was going to take a trip to Michigan to meet up with some old friends (and by “friends,” I mean good-looking single women), I insisted that I join him on his little rendez-vous down memory lane.
Of course, we argued about whether or not it was pertinent that I tag along for this excursion.
His take: He was meeting up with friends from his old neighborhood, and if I came, I would just feel like a third wheel when they shared memories of times past.
My take: You’re meeting with hot, single women…I’m coming.
After we had some time to cool off, my husband talked the idea over with some of our mutual female friends, and they all agreed that if there was going to be attractive women involved with this trip, I had every right to be there.
So…He approached me to apologize and re-invite me.
Ironically, I had also done some soul-searching. I got to thinking about the last time my husband asked me to meet up with friends from his past. I had a scary flashback of the disastrous encounter I had with my husband’s ex a couple of months ago, and I decided that it would be better for me to stay at home this time.
Of course, we ended up fighting again–This time, my husband insisted that I go, and I insisted that I stay.
Besides, I had already planned out the perfect husband-less weekend…Have a friend over for wine on Friday night, lunch with friends on Saturday then off to a party that night and finish off Sunday with a mani-pedi and a big bowl of ice cream. It would be the ultimate bliss.
Only…Friday night, after my friend went home, I realized that I missed my hubby. And the party wasn’t as fun as it would have been had my hubby been there with me. Oh, and Sunday…I had a blast with the mani-pedi, and I was happy that I didn’t have to share my ice cream with my hubby, but all the same, I still missed him…A lot…
I was dumbfounded. I was so looking forward to a weekend alone, but all I wanted was to be with my husband again.
And ya know what? I wasn’t the only one.
When my husband got home late Sunday night, he confessed that while he was chatting it up with the “hot women,” all he could talk about was me and how he couldn’t wait to get home.
I suppose absence really does make the heart grow fonder, huh?