So…

I LOVE my husband.

I mean, I really, really love him. We live a wild, unpredictable life and we could never do it if I really didn’t just love him down to his guts.

That being said…

“Hi! We’re back!” I called out.

“Hey…did you find everything you need?” Michael asked.

Dear friends of ours let us stay at their home near one of the theatres where the show recently played. They were on their way to join us for the weekend and I wanted to prepare a nice dinner for them when they arrived.

“I did!” I beamed, “And the drive to the store is so charming…all the old homes and…is something wrong?  Why are you just standing in the doorway like that?”

I know my husband. He had a clammy look about him, as if the effort it took to wrack his brain about how to tell me something caused him to break out into a fine sweat.

“I did something…bad.”

“What do you mean?” I marveled as I ascended the driveway toward the front door, “We were gone for 45 minutes, what could have possibly happened?”

“Well…I think it will be ok. I think I can fix it.”

“Fix it? Oh no, Michael! What happened?”

“Well…the story is kind of funny…” he offered, “see, I decided to do some yoga…”

“Yoga??? You decided to do yoga?”

This man, my husband, has not done yoga for about 8 years which pretty much qualifies him as having never done yoga.

“Well it was one of Margi’s (my favorite yoga teacher on the planet) downloads and she had us doing handstands at the wall…”

“Okaaaay…” I said suspiciously, “are you implicating Margi?”

“Well, I mean, no…of course not…it’s just…the handstands went so well I decided I could just do the forearm stands in the middle of the room…”

“What???” I blurted out with a laugh of complete bewilderment and a shred of mild admiration for his momentary fearlessness, “I’ve practiced yoga for 15 years and I never do a forearm stand in the middle of the room!”

“Well I thought if I fell, I would just land on my feet again…I didn’t realize I’d flip over!”

“Oh NO!” I stood in the foyer now with both hands over my face to shield myself from the potential shattered vase or broken lamp I was about to see, “Of course you flip over!” I said loudly as if possessed by either Jerry Seinfeld or Larry David or both, “That’s what happens!  If there’s no wall…you just…you flip over!”

I made swirling, circular loops to complement my words with my index fingers.  I wanted to be sure my point really hit home as if that gesture alone could undo what had already been done.  I began to round the corner into the living room as he continued, “Well, yeah…so, I flipped over, and toppled into the bench…”

“…and the corner of the bench slammed into the window.”

I froze wide eyed at the entry way to the living room while I stared at the following sight in our friends’ lovely new home.

I closed my eyes, I pursed my lips and I slowly exhaled all the air out of my lungs while Michael explained away in the background all the various ways he could remedy the situation.  “You know,” I interrupted, “if I could just not live in a Will Ferrell movie for one day, I would be so happy.”

Our next stop was Norfolk, VA.