Classic Old Spice

It is truly amazing how easy it is to start taking someone in your everyday life for granted as I realized this past week when some recent drama unfolded in our family. Like it or not, your spouse and your mother are the two people in the world who are typically the ones who see the good, the bad, and the REALLY ugly and love you just the same. I admit that I have at times settled into the fact that I am completely comfortable with my husband and can be snippy and short when I am tired or just plain cranky. No, he does not deserve this but I will say that I am also that person for him – he is secure enough in my love for him so I am also sometimes his punching bag when life gets a little too tough to handle. The thing is, he is correct – I am always going to love him and accept him for who he is regardless of how irritated he gets at me for leaving my thousands of water bottles throughout the house or when I lose my keys, sunglasses, and cell phone around 30 times each day…So here is the latest Dynasty drama (this is what I call the episodes in my life that resemble a soap opera): I am pleasantly enjoying an afternoon of playing with Bubba Boo while Missy Moo continues to nap peacefully in her bed. I let Ellie Rose the WonderDog out to tinkle and pop some popcorn while simultaneously turning on Oprah, my guilty pleasure for the afternoon. It was a windy day and it did occur to me that possibly our ridiculous gate, a part of the “Million Dollar Fence” that was never constructed correctly, could have blown open but then, being a mommy, I got distracted by a projectile vomit and a diaper change before I was able to get back to that thought…You probably have guessed where this is going and you are correct – the gate was open and Ellie the WonderDog was long gone for the tenth time since April. You would also think that since this has happened before we just might remember to put a collar on her each day but of course, that would just make too much sense…I frantically run around the houses around us yelling for Ellie but of course, she is out enjoying her new-found freedom while I start to envision someone picking her up and taking her home where they will abuse her and not ever feed her or let her nuzzle in bed with them every now and then…Once Missy Moo wakes up, we pile in the truckster and slowly drive through the neighborhood yelling Ellie’s name out the windows – of course, Missy Moo thought this was hysterical as she concluded that we must be playing a game with Ellie and she was going to pop up any minute. Bubba Boo contentedly chewed on his Who-Zit because of course, being Bubba Boo, nothing fazes him. Defeated, we returned home to begin dinner preparations and edure what I recently read is “suicide hour” for all mommies around the world. Just as I was putting the potatoes into the boiling pot and Missy Moo and Bubba Boo were playing in the playroom, the phone rings. It is a credit agency calling on behalf of Southwestern Bell and by golly, they want to collect on an outstanding balance of $189.92 that I owe them from when I lived in Dallas. Dallas? Why, I have never lived in Dallas – how could this be? As the person on the other end of the line asked if it was possible that maybe my identity had been stolen, my wheels began to turn…Sadly enough, there was another husband in my life before I found the soulmate to whom I am currently hitched and yes, he had used my social security number to obtain an apartment in Dallas and set-up his phone service. Lovely… As I question the “Dog the Bounty Hunter” of the credit agency as to what I can do, he simply just said there was nothing I could do – it is on my social security number, so sorry about your luck. I promptly get all of the information I can out of my newly-found friend and immediately dial the number of my ex-mother-in-law to obtain the phone number of my ex-husband (yes, I am Linda Evans at this point) while Bubba Boo grins at me from the Jumper-Roo and Missy Moo sings the “Being Together” song from Barney at the top of her lungs. After a quick convo with the ex-MIL, I then leave a message for my ex and return to the potatoes, seething that yet again, I have been faced with his financial irresponsibility. If this were the first time this had happened, it would be one thing, but this is about the third time I have gotten a random phone call from someone claiming that I owe money on his behalf. Tired of constantly looking over my shoulder, I decide to call my friend at the collection agency to ask a few questions that had come to my mind since our prior conversation when hubby walked in to find me near tears. Looking bewildered and possibly a little concerned that Missy Moo had, at this point, decided to strip down to her diaper but left on her socks and was wildly running around our house screaming “Daddy’s home!!!”, I ended the conversation with my buddy and tearfully briefed him on the latest Dynasty drama. “That’s it,” he said. “Where is the number of the collection agency?” I gave him the piece of paper that contained the requested number as well as the current phone number of my ex-husband. Still sporting his work-clothes, he bounded up the stairs with the phone and a determined yet peeved look on his face that quite frankly, I was a little scared of. There are times in your life as a wife when you just step aside and this was one of them…So back to the potatoes I go and in between adding the margarine and milk, I hear a conversation that does not really sound like one would have with a collection agency. Lo and behold, my knight in shining armor really HAD had enough as he was talking to my ex-husband and the conversation did not sound like they were discussing the joy of being married to yours truly.
Once this lovely tete-a-tete was over, he then called back the collection agency and discovered that to remove this permanently from my credit, which impacts him of course, we would have to file a police report and claim a stolen identity. While I am not a huge fan of the man I was once married to, I realize there were reasons why he made bad decisions a few years ago that I am not going to go into here – let’s just say that while there is no love lost, I also have compassion for what the man went through. I do not want to have to file a police report against him, but I also want to protect my credit as well. I will do what I have to do for my family.
In the meantime, Ellie the WonderDog has not returned and I continue to envision the corrupt and evil people who have dog-napped her. When hubby finally returns downstairs, he is dressed for his scheduled workout and as he leans over to give me a kiss, I catch a whiff of the new shower gel he purchased recently – Classic Old Spice. I have often thought of this scent as one that my Industrial Arts teacher in sixth grade always wore and was not always too fond of it but for some reason, today it made me feel secure. I loved the classic aroma – a tried and true scent that has stood the test of time and is still sold today. It is worn by men who do the right thing even when it is not the popular thing to to do, who stand up for their families, and fight for their wives. It is worn by my husband, who is all of those things. While I give him a kiss and my red eyes fill with tears, he says “Don’t worry – we are going to get all of this cleared up.” I know we will because he said so but I wish I could say that was why I was weepy – I was weepy because our four-legged firstborn baby was missing and I needed to find her but was unsure of what else to do. “I know honey, but this is the longest she has ever been gone and she probably isn’t going to come home,” was hubby’s response. Sadly, he was probably correct as it was almost 6 p.m. and it gets dark now at 7 p.m. – of course, this brought on a whole new crop of images of what was going to happen to poor Ellie. Hubby had to go, so I hugged him again and got the potatoes, mashed and ready at this point, on the table for Missy Moo and Bubba Boo. Just as I was tearing into the green beans, I hear the front door open and my husband say “Get in there and go say hello to your mother!” The WonderDog happily bounds through the kitchen with a grin that tells me she just had the time of her life and my Classic Old Spice winks at me and rides away on his horse.