Tonight when Matt returned home from work, I was sharing a glass of wine with a friend. Matt completed his usual routine and was out the door. My friend ended up staying later than I anticipated so after she left I was a little stressed about getting dinner finished in time for Matt's return {this was dinner}. He was going to be understandably hungry after a long days work and a few pick up games of b-ball and I felt a little guilty making him wait any longer.
Matt usually returns from basketball between 8:00 and 8:30. Sometimes he stays a little later to play a few more games with the locals. So when 8:45 came and went, and my lasagna was out of the oven for the second time, I started to get worried. Matt doesn't take either of his cell phones with him to play so I had no way of checking in with in. 9:00 came and went. No Matt. I started to get worried. I asked Matt who he was meeting for basketball before he left. Neither of the two gentlemen I know and can get in contact with were playing this evening so that possibility was out. I checked across the street to see if he was at the neighborhood bar having a drink after a few games. Nope. I recall Matt telling me how tired he was this week, because he has been going to sleep too late this week. Too late = 10:15. I am taking this into account as well. 9:30 comes and goes. I'm starting to get anxious. I thought about calling my parents. But I knew my mom would be worried too and it wasn't going to do any good to worry any one else. My mind started to wonder with possibilities. I again realized I have no idea how to handle myself in an emergency here. I once asked my Spanish teacher what to do in case of an emergency. Her response. "Call me."
"But what about an emergency number, like 911?"
"Oh, I'm sure there is a number you can dial, like 1-2-3, but we are in the jungle my dear, you will call me if you have an emergency."
So, my plan was, if Matt was not home by 10:30 I was going to call 'my emergency source' and have her help me find my basketball playing husband. If she didn't answer, I didn't really have a plan B. Maybe walk to the court?
At 10:00 pm my sweaty husband walked in the door. Sore. and complaining about how tired he was. After exhaling the biggest sigh of relief, I showed him that I was not a very happy bride. And asked him where he planned to put his cell phone when he played basketball from now on.
I had myself pretty worked up after my 90 minutes of stress.
So to de-stress, I painted my nails in bed,
while my husband slept safely beside me.
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