Oh, he’s good. He’s really good, My Captain is.
He found the box of chocolate-pecan-peanutbutter bars I’d hidden for his trip to Georgia, and he put them out at the place the USAR team gathered before they left for the airport.
Sure, some got eaten, but the remainder of the box of goodies got left at the USAR warehouse, and did NOT go on the plane with the rest of the team to the training. I was summarily outfoxed.
What a butthead.
Of course, if their plane crashes, and they are starving somewhere deep in the Appalachian Mountains, he’ll have no one to blame but himself. I’ll certainly feel smug as I hear the harrowing details of how he had to eat an arm or leg off of one of the rookies.
You realize, of course, that this means war.
In other news, the power went out just as My Captain was leaving for his trip at 3am this morning. Here’s a bastardization of how the conversation went down:
M.C.: I’ll go start up the generator real quick before I leave.
Me: No, don’t bother, Love. I’m sure the power company will take care of it. The USAR training can’t wait for you. Just go!
M.C.: You and the kids won’t have lights as they get ready for school.
Me: Critter looks like he dressed in the dark every day as it is, and Varmint gets her stuff together every night before. We’ll be fine. Just go!
M.C.: You’ll have no power to work the well-pump. You’ll have no water.
Me: We’ll drink Gatorade. Go!
M.C.: You won’t be able to flush a toilet.
Me: Critter loves to pee in the woods. Don’t worry about us! Just go! Love you!
And off My Captain went.
Later this morning, as we got our acts together in the dark, I realized I couldn’t make coffee.
I. Couldn’t. Make. Coffee.
Daggumit! I should have agreed to let him start up the generator.
Once again, he was right. He is always stinkin’ right. It’s enough to drive a woman nuts…or, in my case, MORE nuts.
Later on, he called to check on us as they were boarding the plane. Know what I said?
“Why didn’t you start up the generator before you left?! You’re so selfish!”
Did I mention that this means war?