Saturday, the Day After Friday
The wife has been pleading for a vacation. Days off have been in short supply since January, when the event of my son’s birth caused me to take more vacation than I had accrued. In the time between then and now, I’ve been working off borrowed time. That doesn’t leave room for many weekdays spent outside of my office.
Still I hear her pleas. While a real vacation won’t become reality for a few more months, that doesn’t mean we can’t compromise. A day trip was on the docket. The only question was where. A dinner time discussion about St. Michaels on Friday filled in that blank. It turned out that a family outing was already planned for the next day. We decided to join in.
The trip to our destination wasn’t notable, which is a blessing when you must cross the Bay Bridge on a Saturday morning. We did, however, stop off for a short lunch at Ruby Tuesdays, an event that was notable only because of the quaint reaction solicited from my mother and stepfather, regular visitors to our destination.
You could see the lost look in their eyes when they realized that THE PLAN has been changed. We never do it this way. We are supposed to pick up some ice cream when we get down there. What are you doing?
It reminds you how set we are in our ways. My wife and I surely have habits such as these, traditions that are marked as much by the events themselves as the ritualistic way we repeat them. Thankfully they were open to change. The baby was hungry.
Speaking of the baby, our worries about the little tike began almost immediately upon arrival. To start it was nasty hot. Stifling humidity was thrown into the mix to create a truly entertaining sweat. I’m sure I would have had a better time if I wasn’t so worried about the child bursting into flames at any moment. I’m not sure which part of mother nature is responsible for the weather in Maryland. All I know is that it is moist and warm.
Our other worry involved the scheduled boat trip. I wasn’t really concerned about the trip itself; I’ve taken this trip before and I always feel quite at home on the water. It was a big vessel, not a rowboat. What really bothered me was any potential contingency plans. What would I do if something went wrong? I can swim. My child isn’t so lucky and, at such a young age, isn’t the best fit for a life jacket.
In the end, we swallowed our fears. The light breeze brought about by our travels was a welcome relief from the heat.
Afterwards we did a little shopping. St Michaels has a bunch of little stores selling a little of this and a little of that. We visited quite a few of them, generally more thankful for the cool breeze of a waiting air conditioner than the wares available for us to peruse. The wife and I picked up some garlic salsa I have yet to taste. My stomach growls at the thought.
Our shopping did not last long. The heat was a cruel companion, no doubt aided by the fact that I was carrying a 16 pound child on my back. I was sure that smoke was rising from my wife’s bottom. I had better get her home before she begins to smolder.
I had fun. While a single day on the shore is sad replacement for the vacation we so sorely need, it was a nice respite from the daily drone. Maybe next time we can go somewhere magnificent, like our neighbor’s soon to be built pool.
