Where in the World is My Husband?

Belgrade, Serbia

This is a game I've been playing with my students on the days Michael arrives in a new city. They love it. I roll down the big world map and point out the city and/or country he's in, and I share whatever I happen to know about that place. I was not enthusiastic about this leg of the trip because there has been some unrest in Belgrade recently. Seems they don't like the U.S. support of Kosovo's independence, and so they torched our embassy in Belgrade.

Nice.

And then when I showed my students a video clip about Serbia it was all about land mines.

Very reassuring.

Fortunately, he's only there until Saturday morning and then he will travel to another country. I think he will be just fine between now and then. I don't really understand why his boss is performing in Serbia, but maybe they are big fans over there. What do I know?

I told him last night that with him being gone so long I don't feel married anymore. He laughed and told me to look at Shiny Goodness when I feel that way. Shiny Goodness is what I call my wedding rings. I'll admit that I do look at them to remind myself that I am married, because all this time on my own feels just like my single days all over again.

I asked him how some of the other wives are holding up, especially this one wife I know who has two young children. He said she's going nuts, and that she calls her husband on his iPhone all the time. So I said, "Oh, honey! I want you to get your iPhone before you go on another trip like this. Then I can call you when I need to."

He said, "At a dollar a minute? Are you kidding? You want me to come home to an outrageous phone bill?"

"Maybe..." I replied, because I really wouldn't care. I would rather have a big phone bill than sleepless nights like when I couldn't reach him last week.

Anyway, this other wife was at her wit's end because one of her children had taken a Sharpie marker to the sofa. She wanted her husband's permission to purchase a new sofa, but he told her no. He said they weren't getting a new sofa until their kids were grown. Oh, my!

I sure hope this gig of Michael's is a thing of the past before any children of ours are old enough to decorate the furniture with Sharpie markers. Sheesh!