Well, it's

finally happened. The Wife has left me, and from reading my stories some

of you are wondering what took her so long. Why she has hung around as

long as she has I don't know, but no worry - she said she would be back

in about a week.

Now I know

that might surprise you that's she's coming back; it surprises me most

of all, but seems she's kinda taken a liking to The Boy. I just knew he'd

be good for something one day.

Her best bud,

Julie, came into town from California, and they're gonna spend Girls'

Week Out in downtown Atlanta. That means The Boy and I will be left alone

to fend for ourselves for seven days. Wonder if we or the house can survive.

There're a

few things one can do when The Wife's away that you better not do when

she's around. For example, when you come in from work, you can leave a

long trail of dirty clothes from the front door to the bedroom. You can

take a shower and not rinse out the tub. All wet towels can be left piled

on the bathroom floor, and the bed doesn't have to be made up at all.

Side note: Doesn't it make sense not to make the bed in the morning? You're

just gonna get right back into it in about ten hours anyway.

The Wife called

the second day to tell me that she and Julie were eating at an expensive

outdoor resutrant in Bulkhead for lunch. She was impressed when I told

her I was cooking The Boy lunch. We hung up the phone just in time for

me to serve The Boy his toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a

glass of milk. When he asked if he could drink out of the milk carton,

I told him he couldn't but I could. When he replied that it wasn't fair;

I told him it was just one of the many perks of being a dad while The

Wife is out of town.

On day three,

The Wife called and said she and Julie were headed out to see a show.

(A "chick flick," I'm sure.) After a lunch of fried peanut butter

sandwiches, The Boy and I also ventured out to the local high-priced video

store and rented every guy movie we could get our hands on. Guy movie:

any movie that has laser beams, explosions, aliens or alien spacecrafts

on its cover. The movie can be about war (preferably with aliens), time

travel, or monsters, with no love scenes and above all else it must end:

an ending with the Aliens or the Alien world blowing up, not an ending

you have to think about for two weeks till you finally figure out what

happened. And no tears! Ever see and alien cry? No! That's why there are

no aliens in chick flicks.

For two glorious

days, we watched guy movies and ate fried peanut butter sandwiches. I

used the new feature on the big-screen TV that allows the watching of

four programs at one time. Toward the end of the second day, The Boy asked

if he could use the remotes. I said no, just one more perk of being a

dad. He was gonna say something else, but The Wife called. She said they

had just gotten back from seeing a Braves game and were going out to an

Italian restaurant for dinner. I told her we were going to eat Italian

also, and when we hung up, I ordered two large pizzas.

The next day,

we both had pizza for breakfast. Afterwards The Boy cut the grass and

I cleaned the house and made several discoveries. When The Wife is gone,

clothes don't magically find their way from the floor to the laundry room.

Dishes really don't wash themselves, and come lunch time, we were out

of peanut butter and bread.

That night

we had ice cream. The Boy had a big bowl, and I ate out of the carton.

He just looked at me and said, "Let me guess, another perk of being

a dad right?" That Boy's getting smarter everyday.

Two days later

The Wife saw Julie off at the airport, and returned to a mowed lawn and

a clean house ­ at least by husband standards. She remarked that

there were no dirty dishes; I told her that's what happens when you have

fried peanut butter sandwiches for lunch and eat dinner out every night.

She asked if I missed her, and I said yes. I even rented "Kate and

Leopold," a chick flick, for her homecoming. It couldn't be all bad;

the back cover said it was a love story with time travel.

I asked her

to give me more notice the next time she goes off for a week. That way

I can alert the local take-out places, and stock up on peanut butter and

sandwich bread. She just hugged me and said that there wasn't anyone else

like me in the entire world. Wonder if she thinks I'm an alien?

[Rick Ryckeley

is employed by the Fayette County Department of Fire and Emergency Services.

He can be reached at [email protected].]