The World According to Mike-PART II

If you haven't read part I yet, it was posted yesterday--check it out before you read this one. 

At this very moment, I'm sitting in a hotel room in Solvang, CA watching Law and Order re-runs while Mike gets his nails done (something I forced him to do as he's in a wedding this evening). So, it's our dear friends' wedding weekend here in the Santa Ynez Valley and since we got here yesterday, I recognized a great irony in my marriage. When Mike and I are at home getting ready for social events, I'm always late--I can never figure out what to wear, I'm running around the house frantically looking for my Blackberry, hollering about how I can't find my keys and all the while my husband is standing there, dressed and waiting for me. 

On vacation, however, things are different. On vacation, I go into psycho-on-time mode. For this trip, I've had every outfit planned, every location mapquested and I am, in effect, the vacation Nazi. On the other hand, since we got here, Mike's been on a laissez faire kick. I'm sure this has nothing to do with the fact that he doesn't have to think for one minuet (as I've done all of the work already) but he's actually ABLE to switch his stresser off and...well...be on vacation. I, however, am seemingly terrified of it--the thought of relaxation seems a far off notion...a mirage...something that couldn't possibly be possible.

And last night, on our way to the rehearsal dinner, I subjected everyone in the wedding crew to my fascistic vacation ways. Several of the groomsmen (including my husband) were running late for the rehearsal dinner and assured me and the other wives that we could be late for the dinner, that it wouldn't matter, that it's OK, that even though it was called for 6:30pm...we could show up at 6:45/7:00 and it would be FINE. I, of course, was having none of this. I had been ready a half hour early. I had done my outfit agonizing early, I had exfoliated, I had done my eye makeup...at 6:30pm I was sitting on the edge of the bed watching as Mike leisurely shaved...

ME: "Honey, we have to go."

MIKE: "It's fine. I'll be ready in five minutes."

This, BTW, is MIke's FAVORITE phrase. 

ME: "The dinner is at 6:30, it's 6:30."

MIKE: "No one else has left yet. It'll be FINE."

ME: "No no...this is not fine. I'm ready, do you see? This is me. Ready. I'm never ready and now I'm sitting on the bed and no one at this dinner will know that I was the one ready on time! We'll walk in late and they'll all be like, 'oh, of course they're late. Alexis takes forever.'"

MIKE: "Relax."

This is Mike's favorite thing to tell me when we're on vacation. Relax-as if it's so so easy.

MIKE: "Seriously, you need to calm down."

ME: "It's 6:38, Mike. It's going to take us some time to get there and we're going to be those a-holes who walk in so late that, like, the speeches will have to be paused and someone might even make a joke about us."

Ten minutes pass.

ME: "I'm getting Ben. I'm sure he's ready."

I go outside to the other groomsmen's rooms. Let's just say that one of them couldn't answer the door because he was in the shower and there I was, banging on his door, screaming, "Ben! It's 6:40! We have to get there!" Ben, of course, seemed to be on my husband's train and responded with...

"I'll be ready in five minutes!"

I stomped back into our room.

MIKE: "So?"

ME: "He's not ready yet."

MIKE: "I told you."

ME: "Well, this is RIDICULOUS. I'm leaving."

I grabbed my Pashmina in a huff, snatched the keys from the table and clip clopped to the car. Mike ran after me...

MIKE: "What's wrong with you? Everyone's leaving at the same time!"

ME: "I REFUSE to be late for a rehearsal dinner. It's rude. If I were Heather, I'd be steaming, STEAMING! I'm ready, I'm going and I'm NOT going to be the a--hole!"

MIKE: "Fine, let's go, but when everyone else walks out of the hotel and sees that we've left, you're going to look like a crazy person."

ME: "Well, at LEAST I'll be ON TIME."

We get into Mike's Jeep. The others walk out.

BECCA: "Where are you going?"

ME: "We're late, guys. It's rude. We're leaving."

SCOTT: "But I thought we were all going together."

I slump out of our car and into Becca's and Scott's car. Five of us head off through the hills of Santa Ynez and arrive at the rehearsal a half hour late. 

ME: "See guys? Everyone's already inside. I told you. We're so late."

MIKE: "Look, there's Josh!"

Josh, the groom, had just arrived. The other four people in the car turn to me...

MIKE: "I told you to CALM DOWN and see? Josh is just getting here...there's, like, no one here yet and you were freaking out."

As we made our way into the private dining room, I realized something...maybe the world according to Mike is the world as it should be...go with the flow...always on time (even if we're late) and always...relaxed. And then, the scariest thing happened...

MIKE: "See? I'm always right."

ME: "Yes. Yes....you are."

Comments

[carolyn white]

Very funny! I'm glad to see that Mike gets to be right too...although I know how annoying that must be. I hate it when my husband is right because I think that I am always the one who "gets it." And usually that's true...When all is said and done most husbands will admit (at least once before they die) that they should have listened to their wives more often. But now you will be able to remind him (when he gets testy) that you ARE capable of being on time. "Remember when we were in Solvang and I had to wait for you?"