In the early years of our marriage love of my life was my compass. I was a timid, shy little thing (of course ALL that has changed tremendously). He would take me to where ever I needed to go if I was the least bit unsure of how to get there. If he couldn't take me he would drive there first and then draw a map for me. If I simply didn't want to run an errand he would jump right in there and take over. I liked it--a lot. Who wouldn't; and anyway there is nothing wrong with being a "kept" woman; is there?
I am not the only one who has changed. This morning he arose early, showered and got into respectable clothing. The day of the dreaded IRS audit has arrived. He really wanted to push this off on me. Like that was going to happen. He is the one who does the taxes (though after this, I plan to become more involved) ; and he is, after all, the master of bullshit. So, off he went. This is the second time he has made this trip. The first auditor retired and apparently kept notes much like Drew does. Her replacement decided she needed more information and added 2008 to the audit. Why not? You would think they would have bigger fish to fry, but what do I know?
I got up as he was leaving on his mission and started my day. I reheated yesterdays coffee while a new pot brewed and got started on the amazing amount of laundry generated by just two people. The phone rings as I am fighting to keep the dog from eating some socks. "Didn't those papers the IRS sent have a map?" asks Drew. "It is the same place you went to before." I say as I throw down the load of laundry and let the dog have his way with those socks. I grab the papers that are miraculously right where I put them--next to where his wallet and keys were--so that he wouldn't forget them. "Well I can't find it." he says impatiently. So, I go through the directions with him. I have never been there, but I have been in the general area and can see it in my minds eye. I patiently tell him which exit to take and which turns to make and then say, "Honey, isn't it right after you exit on that first road before you get to the mall?" He growls at me then, so I tell him again how to get there. But what I really want to ask is, "Who are you and where is my husband?"
I then wrestle the laundry from the dog and fill the washer again. Phone rings again. He is still lost. I go over the very simple directions once more and hang up. He hasn't called back or shown up, so I assume he found it. I do not like this change in my husband; no, not at all.