It’s Like Being Married to a GPS System

We're leaving for our California vacation in only a couple of weeks. Hubs sent me an e-mail yesterday to remind me that there are a few remaining elements of our trip plans we still need to handle. He suggested we both do some research, and we could sit down later in the evening to discuss what we found.

Okay. Good idea.

But here's what it looks like when I do vacation planning: I sit down at the computer and open up the Disneyland website. And then I remember that it would be fun if we got my daughter a Tinkerbell t-shirt for the trip, so maybe I'll just pop over to the Disney Store website and see if there are any sales. But then that reminds me, wasn't there a big sale at Old Navy this week? Maybe I'll click over there too. Yep, swimsuits are on sale, which reminds me that I need to add sunscreen to my grocery list. But first, I should check the 'fridge and see if we need milk, too. Except -- wait a minute -- I forgot there was strawberry pie in there, so maybe I'll just sit down for a little break.

This is why, after 15 years of marriage, Hubs no longer trusts me with trip plans. Because when he got home last night, this is what his version of vacation planning looked like:

Picture an Excel spreadsheet, with eight columns. First he listed the date, then the departure time, then the destination for that day. Then he listed the number of miles we’d be traveling, plus the average speed, plus a time-zone adjustment (yes, really), then the net travel time, and the estimated arrival time.

It was at this point that I reminded him that it’s a family vacation and not a CIA mission. He laughed good-naturedly, but then he mumbled something about synchronizing our watches.

I can give him a hard time about this because I know, deep down, that it’s his solid planning that frees me up to send my clicky fingers all over the Internet in search of a Tinkerbell shirt. And he knows, deep down, that he might not be able to count on me to remember the name of the hotel, but you can be DARN sure I will have packed swimsuits I bought for the low, low price of $7.99.

After 15 years, it’s all about the teamwork.