Stress

I was stuck in traffic driving home. It was about 6:30 p.m. I was on King Street near Star Market. I needed to be home by 7:00 so that I could pick up Wendell to drive him to the airport. He's going to Vegas with guys from one of his softball teams. I smell something burning. I'd been noticing that smell lately, but it usually goes away, and then I'd forget about it until I smell it again. It was especially strong tonight. My cell phone's dead. Battery ran out. I can't call Wendell to tell him I might be late. My bad.

Dunno what else to do but drive on. I finally make it to the on-ramp by the Humane Society. The smell goes away . . . like usual. I make it home by 7:00. Wendell's truck isn't home. Whatda??? As I'm getting out of my car, wondering if something's wrong with my car and wondering wheredahell Wendell is, he comes blazing in and parks behind me.

So I ask him, "What time were we supposed to leave?" He says, "7:30 . . . I'm stressed". HE'S stressed. Landon had made some baked spaghetti, so I make myself a plate. Wendell is runnin' around like a chicken without a head.

It's now 7:15 and Wendell yells out, "Are you done eating?" I say yes. He says, "Can you go online and get me my boarding pass?" I think, "ARE YOU FRICKIN' KIDDING ME?" I say instead, "How do you do that?" He says, "Just go to 'Hawaiian Airlines' and put in my code." He tosses me some papers. I go to the site and try to figure out what to do. I say, "Soooo, am I checking you in?" He says, "I guess so. . . . and oh yeah, can you pay for my bags too." He tosses me his credit card and goes into the shower. I maneuver my way to the "bags" section. I scream ('cause he's in the shower, not 'cause I'm mad), "How many bags do you have?" He says, "Two." I print the boarding pass and whatever else I can.

It's now 7:35, Wendell is still in the shower and Landon comes home. He says, "Hi mom, are you taking dad to the airport or am I?" I say, "YOU ARE."