Like two kids, my husband and I excitedly packed our bags for a 3 day trek to San Antonio for a referee related trip. We love San Antonio and were pleased that the organization was picking up the tab for our lovely room in a wonderful hotel! We looked forward to some leftover time to venture out and about the city. Excited over the prospect of getting dressed up for a dinner with my sweetheart was especially nice. I made a huge fuss over what we would both wear and even packed the “second” choice, complete with shoes to match. In fact, we packed so enthusiastically that we racked up 4 suitcases for this weekend adventure.
We hustled about getting our animals all packed, as we had decided to take our two small dogs with us. This was, after all, a pet friendly hotel. As my husband attached the carrier to the top of the car, I continued to carry out our cargo as though we were boarding the Queen Mary. Much fuss was made over making a comfy bed in the back of our car for our dog babies to enjoy this trip.
We arrived in San Antonio with just enough time left to shower and dress for dinner. I settled the dogs in the room while my husband ran to unload the luggage. “Hurry, Sweetie!” I called happily as he rushed down the hall. “We don’t want to be late!”
I decided if I hurried, I could shower while he got the bags and then I could do my hair and makeup while he showered. I did. He soon came back to the room and just stood looking at me a second. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“Not much I guess. It seems we left all our luggage at home, sitting in the driveway.” He looked around the room as though we may have forgotten and brought it in.
“Nah! Seriously? We’ve never done anything like that! I brought it all out while you attached the carrier to the car.”
“Yeah, you did. I just somehow forgot to pack it in the carrier.” He looked so pitiful, I didn’t dare make a fuss and make him feel worse.
“Well, at least we got here with our personal things. I packed those essentials separately in a bag,” I added.
“Yeah, you did. But to save room, I packed them in the suitcases with the rest of the stuff. Now, wasn’t that smarter?” he looked suddenly tired but tried to smile.
“You mean, we have no deodorant, toothpaste, my make-up, all those things that make us socially acceptable?” I asked, as I stood dripping soap on the floor.
“That’s pretty much it.” He said dryly.
“Well, we still have about a half hour.” I said, as though that would fix everything. “Is there a store nearby?”
“I remember passing a lamp shop and a furniture store down the street; a grocery store; and one of those places that sells cell phones. Oh, and a tattoo place.”
“Well every town has a Wal-Mart. Maybe we can find one!” I hopped out of the suds and into my duds…the same as I had worn all day. And we were off to Wal-Mart.
“Now we don’t have much time to ponder all this stuff,” he cautioned me. “Just something that will work for dinner and we will worry about the rest later.”
He grabbed khakis and a shirt. Guys are so easy. I, however, was in a quandary. I couldn’t decide which look was more flattering for me-the Hawaiian print mu-mu or the tee shirt that said “Still Can’t Touch This!” I did not have time to try on dresses. I needed something fast. I grabbed at a dress that looked as though it had been created by Omar the tent maker but surely would be plenty big. Maybe a belt to cinch it up? Nothing appropriate though. Where was my fashionista daughter when I needed her! Honestly, she could take a bandana and yank a dress together with it and look like she walked off the runway. Everytime I tried that, I looked like I had been hit on the runway.
And, I still had to find make-up! In frustration at the lack of time, I decided to skip the dinner and hit breakfast with them tomorrow. Nothing dressy required there. So I grabbed yet another tee shirt that I felt would look okay. I reluctantly put it back when I realized it had “WHO’S YOUR DADDY?” boldly shouting on the back. Shame though; the front was really cute.
I sent my acceptably Khaki-dressed husband on to the dinner, since he needed to attend. I continued my search for breakfast wear and made my entrance the next morning wearing a fetching little number off the bargain rack that bespoke floor-length casual with a tiny slit up the side seam and my hair pulled jauntily up in a clip intended to look simply thrown together when actually I had worked for an hour to look like I had just rolled out and pulled it together.
Knowing that as I age, these things are likely to happen to me more often, I have decided to put together an “emergency bag” of sorts to keep in the car. It will have the essentials like toiletries and an outfit or two…oh and I had to go back and get that “Who’s Your Daddy?” shirt…I just couldn’t help myself. Made a great souvenir!
Guest writer Linda Cheshire has been writing since her childhood in West Virginia. This lady of faith and her husband live in Texas and share their home with an assortment of rescued pets. Linda’s first published article was “A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to Retirement.”
