The Sunday Drive to Church

Leaving the house has become a daily chore. The husband, sits in the car, impatiently, awaiting the exiting of his wife. He knows he could avoid this situation, the impending argument, if he just woke her up a little earlier. But then again, the wife would wake up groggy, tired, and irate. Causing her to take even more time to get ready, slowing down his own progress.

Analyzing all those statistics from ESPN would constantly become interrupted. This in turn would cause him to have to watch Sports Center twice instead of once. The husband could also go around and unplug the coffee pot, toaster, the usual suspects. But she would double check to see if their unplugged causing him to lose that time he already spent unplugging everything.

Now he could take a shower right before bed, allowing for the hot water to build up overnight. But then when she hit the snooze button on her alarm clock, she wouldn’t have “that cue” (the shower turning off). Causing her to completely sleep in and blame the husband for being a dirty old inconsiderate fool.

Moving his processing power from his mind to his body he reaches for the radio. He decides to hit the first preset button, allowing musical waves from the nearest pop radio station to flow through his mind. He starts to shout, trying to drone out the catchy phrases of Avril Levine, but the neighborhood kid peddling by could only make out something he just recently heard on the outtakes of American Idol.

Growing increasingly impatient the husband honks the horn, causing the kid to giggle to himself and peddle away. The wife on the other hand finally emerges from the house to an oh so familiar scene. Her eyes cast down the don’t start with me look. And the husband rolls his window down, yelling “Come On” over Justin Timberlake’s bringin sexy back.

The husband hatefully rolls up his window as the wife meanders over to the car door, lifts the handle and finds the door locked. She raises her hands in the air as to pray, and puts her hand on the handle again. Like they’ve practiced a million times before the husband hits the unlock button on the door at the same exact time as she tries to open the door. The resulting factor has every other door but hers open, which would help the situation if he was a taxi driver.

“Hold your horses” the husband yells, “You’ll break the damn door if you keep it up”. The wife just stands still, looking into his eyes and contemplates trying to do it again to see how pissed off she could make him this morning. He finally hits the button the and wife is whisked into the car by a batch of fresh air just in time to hear “the best songs on the radio 94.1 WQKX Sunbury” and she turned the volume down. Rummaging through her purse the husband puts his hand on the back of her seat and slowly backs out of the driveway.

Wanting to see how she looked, the wife pulls the blinder down and exposes the mirror to take a look at herself as she always does. As they pulled up to the first stop sign, the husband pounds the blinder up and for the 100^th time shouts “Do you want to get into an accident? I can’t see the road when that things down.”

The wife who was already satisfied with how she looked rummaged through her purse and found what she was looking for. Nail polish. It didn’t take long for the husband to glance over and protest the smell of nail polish, but she simply said if you woke me up earlier this could of been avoided.