Did you forget something?

I recently wrote in my posted titled Just Breath that my husband is an efficient packer. That is the truth. He takes pride in this fact, as he should. On more than one occasion I have stood in front of the trunk of our car, luggage scattered on the ground, ready to call U-Haul so I can rent a trailer since there was no way we could fit luggage, dog, kids, stuffed animals, pillows and a variety of necessary miscellaneous items into one car. Enter Mr. Efficient Packer. He would ask me to move away from the car and the luggage so he could work his magic. He would roll up his sleeves. I would back up but not quietly. I squawked about the fact that U-Haul was having a special rental rate this week, about how the law of physics would not allow that much stuff to be stuffed into that small space. I squawked on about how car makers must all be bachelors who knew nothing about traveling with a family of six. My patient husband would tell me that he thought the phone was ringing inside and why don't I go answer it or maybe there was some wet paint somewhere that I could go watch dry.

When I would come back to the car I was prepared to squawk on at my husband, the efficient packer. But he wasn't where I left him. Neither was the luggage. He was sitting quietly behind the wheel of the car, with all of the luggage packed in the trunk - organized by shape, size and color. He would also mention that there was room for the kitchen sink if I thought I might need it on our trip. And now after thirty years of marriage I let him work his magic as I quietly watch from the sidelines, always amazed at his packing abilities.

So when we were packing a couple of weeks ago to head to Maine for our son's wedding, my husband quickly packed his suitcase and announced it was time to go. I voiced my concerns about him having packed enough clothing and other essentials and he looked at me like I was crazy.

"Do you remember who you are talking to here? "

Mr. Efficient Packer, that's right, silly me. How could I forget?

As we settled into our hotel room for the weekend, Mr. EP started to dance a jig around the room, waving his bathing suit over his head.

"Did you remember to pack your bathing suit, Deb? "

I think I glared at him. Remember from my previous post that I had forgotten my slip so I was still rather pouty. Of course I had not packed my bathing suit. I had, in fact, forgotten to pack that also BUT I did not want to admit that to Mr. EP so I thought fast. "Dear, remember why we are up here in Maine. We are here for our son's wedding. We are not going to have time to go swimming."

He seemed to accept that. At least he stopped swinging his suit around in the air.

We woke up bright and early on Saturday, August 19th. Today was the day our son would become a married man. The plan was that the guys would all play golf in the morning since the ceremony wasn't until 4:30 PM. The women would be busy doing last minute wedding details. My wonderful husband of thirty years AKA Mr. Efficient Packer, asked me if I minded if he took his shower first. No problem. He started gathering all of his clothing together. I noticed that he was rummaging feverishly through his bag.

"What's the matter? What are you looking for?" I asked with true concern.

"I can't believe this."

" What?"

"I think I forgot to pack any underwear."

"What? I can't hear you."

"I think I forgot to pack any underwear."

Hm....

"Well, maybe you could go swimming instead." Smile.

I love you, Mr. Efficient Packer ~ underwear or not.