Bachelor life without the wife: old and cold but bold

Just about my entire family recently went to Florida to get some fun in the sun and hang out with the grandkids. This means I had to “batch it” for two whole weeks.

I couldn’t join everyone at the big beach rental house because I’m heavily involved in volunteer firefighter training these days. I did go last year, and I’ll probably go next year, but for now, duty calls.

So, bachelor life for me for two whole weeks. What a change after 38 years of marriage.

I actually have a lot of things to keep me busy all year round, but especially in the winter. So with my wife gone I had a lot of time for practicing guitar, ordering motorcycle parts, and fixing things around the house.

I was able to read several books which is always good, and even try out a few recipes. A good bachelor tip: Even when cooking for one, cook the entire recipe. Then you have leftovers for some other nights. Cook, make a mess, clean, and eat. Then for the other nights just eat. Gotta love that.

What about laundry while my better half was gone? Good question.

Rather than try and figure out the whole process, I just stretched out the time I would wear my pants, T-shirts, etc. By changing less often, I was able to go the entire two weeks without doing laundry.

“But Frank,” you ask, “you did at least wash the sheets on the bed, didn’t you?”

No, I did not. Me and the bedbugs got along perfectly fine the entire time, thank you very much.

I did vacuum and mop the floor, so it’s not like I’m a total slouch. I figure, I do the cars and motorcycles, the house repair, and the outside work. She gets the bills and the laundry. We share the cooking. Works for me.

So everything was going fine during my two-week-long bachelor sojourn when, very faintly, I started to hear some crying. I stopped in my tracks to really listen, and sure enough, it was the sound of someone crying.

Right away, I got my phone out to see if somehow I had some kind of inane cat video playing. But that wasn’t it. So then I walked around the house to try and find out where the crying was coming from.

Then I found it: The crying sound was coming from the garage. I went in, and there was my wife’s Honda Insight, having a total meltdown:

“Waagh, waagh, waagh.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I miss Charlotte! Boohoohoo!”

“Hey, I miss her too, but suck it up. She’ll be back soon.”

“I really miss her! Sobsobsob.”

“Look, I miss having the three of us in bed at night, but she has to be allowed to vacation with the grandkids.”

“What do you mean, three of you in bed? Is something going on that I don’t know about?”

“No, just that I miss having the three of us in bed at night: Charlotte, me, and my CPAP hose. Now it’s just me and my hose, all alone, and, if that sounds pretty bad, let me assure you it’s even worse.”

“Yeah, that does sound pathetic.”

“Still, you don’t see me crying and coming all undone like you.”

“But I miss how she drives me.”

“Oh yeah? I kind of got the feeling that she spends so much time running all over creation doing errands and whatnot that you were getting sick of her.”

“Not at all. For one thing, she drives very carefully. In fact, did you know she was Driver of the Year in high school?”

“Yes, I’ve been told that numerous times. Mostly after I cut someone off or tailgate, haha.”

“So you already know how she drives. She never speeds, she never tailgates, and she always has either the classical station or the Christian station on the radio. Oh, how I miss her! BooHooHoo, sobsobsob!”

“Look, I feel your pain. How about I take you out for a ride today? There’s supposed to be a new Chick-Fil-A in the area. Let’s go there for lunch and see what all the hype’s about.”

“No.”

“No? What do you mean, no? I’m offering to take you on a nice ride to a nice place for lunch. What’s wrong with that?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes, I really do?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

“For Pete’s sake, what could a 2019 Honda Insight possibly say to me to get me mad?”

“OK, then. I don’t want you driving me for three reasons. One, you drive too fast. Two, you play my radio too loud. And three, worst of all, you pass too much gas, and I don’t mean driving by gas stations, either.”

“Ouch. Let’s go through them one by one. Truly, I don’t drive nearly as fast as I used to, but I certainly drive faster than Charlotte, so you’ve got me there. As for the radio, what are you supposed to do when ZZ Top comes on? Rock ’n’ roll, baby! As for the gas thing, all I can say is, when people get older their digestive systems don’t always work the way they used to.”

“You’re telling me! Half the time I’m dying here!”

“Please forgive me. I’m trying a new fiber supplement that I hope will solve this particular problem.”

“Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you. I actually like it when you do my oil changes. Not only do you take the time to warm up my engine so the old oil gets nice and hot and flows out easily, but you always put rubber protection on my CV joint boots so they’ll last longer and keep my delicate joints in great shape. Not even dealerships or quickie lube joints do that during an oil change.”

“Glad you appreciate it. You actually have given Charlotte great service over the years, so it’s an honor to take care of you.”

“I just hope she comes back home soon.”

“You and me both. Now stop crying and let’s go grab some chicken for lunch.”

“You did take that fiber supplement?”

“Yes.”

“OK, let’s go.”

Bachelor life for a couple of weeks during the dead of winter while everyone parties in Florida is all right by me. It’s cold, I’m old, but, for at least a little while, I get to be bold. Rock on!