Packing for a trip is no small task. I'm neurotic, I'm not one of those people who can throw a few things in a bag and go. If I were, traveling would be easier. Instead my process involves check lists, charts, to-do lists, paying the bills in advance, cleaning, and multiple trips to the store to buy last minute items I don't use at home, but somehow can't live without on vacation.
My husband doesn't see what the big deal is, after all the only thing he was responsible for was the umbrellas. If Rio can handle three tasks, surely my husband could remember one.
Three days into our vacation dark clouds formed and then it rained. My husband informed me that he left the umbrellas in the car, so we hiked a half mile through the self parking lot to retrieve them.
"The umbrellas aren't in here," my husband said as he rummaged through the trunk.
"Yeah okay, very funny." I thought he was kidding, until he approached me empty handed.
"Where are they?" He asked sternly.
"I remember asking you to pack them...and you were like...no problem hunny," I mocked him.
"I assumed they were in the trunk," he stated.
"Well you know what they say about assuming..." I rolled my eyes with irritation.
"They're always in the trunk, who took them out?" His defense: it was my fault.
"It's been raining, so the kids take them to school." I pointed to the sky. "Umbrellas won't keep them dry sitting in the trunk."
Next time, I'm assuming he packed his underwear.