Friday, July 1, 2011

Vacation all she ever wanted

‘Great news honey, I’ve booked a mini-vacation for us in Washington DC,’ says wife the moment I walk into the kitchen. Way too bright-eyed for this hour of the morning.


‘Fantastic,’ I say, doing my best fake version of enthusiasm.


‘Not only that, the hotel is paid for by my company because I have to speak at a conference,’ she continues. ‘And, here’s the very best bit, I’ve got you tickets to see Barcelona play Manchester United at FedEx Field while we are there.’


‘You what?’


‘I got you tickets for this game. Guys at work say it’s a huge deal for soccer fans.’


‘The guys at work?’ I ask, trying not to blow up with anger. ‘Are any of them soccer coaches?’


‘Eh, I don’t think so,’ she replies, completely oblivious. ‘One or two might be soccer dads though.’


‘Yeah, I'm on vacation from soccer dads,’ I mutter under my breath.


‘What’s that honey?’ she asks.


I pause for a sharp intake of breath and decide to make this as quick and painless as possible.


‘Firstly, soccer dads know nothing about the sport, and you know even less taking advice from them and splurging money we don’t have on a game I would never want to see. You think I want to see two European clubs playing. Twenty-two foreigners prancing around doing a version of death by a thousand short passes. Are you kidding me? Those teams have nothing to teach me or any other American coach. They are just over here making easy money off gullible people like you and spendthrift soccer dads like the fools you work with!’


No initial response to that. Just a minute of uncomfortable silence.


‘I just thought I was doing something nice,’ she says. finally speaking up.


‘Well, you weren’t. And another thing. I don’t want to go to DC. You’ll be at your conference all day and I’ll be bored. There’s nothing to see or do in that town.’


She walks out of the kitchen, very obviously defeated by my superior logic.


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