My husband and I are embarking on our first grown-up weekend away - ever. Our oldest is ten. My husband is a tightwad. But it gets worse.
The more people that know about our little get away, and you can thank my husband the mouth for telling everyone he trains at the gym, sees on the street, or within shouting distance of this plan, the more stressed I get.
Everyone has an opinion. From "What took you so damn long!" to "Get the weekend started right and give him (sorry I absolutely will not repeat it) in the car." And just the questions - where are you staying, what restaurants are you going to, what will you do there????
OH the Pressure!!!
Have I failed to mention over and over again in this column that my husband and I are Lucy and Ricky Ricardo. Have I also failed to mention we can not go somewhere in the car without fighting? And the fact that we have 2 totally different philosophy's on what is fun?
Left up to my husband we would be staying 45 minutes outside the city in a tent where would could bike in everyday for a bootcamp class, then a hike, forage for nuts and berries for lunch in a free park and ride back to the tent for 6 hours of sex. He's good.
Left up to me we would stay in a 5-star hotel order room service, get massages, watch Audrey Hepburn movies and cuddle with a bottle of champagne.
Considering it is less than 5 days away and we have yet to book a room or finalize a city or a plan.....we're gonna be in that damn tent I just know it!
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