Division of Labor.
I enjoy car trips with my wife. To be candid, she’s good company. Now, do I wish she would take the wheel once in a while? Of course, I do. But for the last 30 years, the pay-off has been huge.
We get to the hotel. I unload the car, piling the contents onto the luggage cart. The family helps as much as they can but mostly get in the way. I push the cart into the lobby. One of the kids, usually the boy, wants to come with me to park the car. The wife steps forward to restrain him. I raise my hand, palm out. Let him come with me.
The Christensen Men. Why must they grow up?
We exit the hotel, leaving the girls to check in. When we come back to the lobby, usually she has the key-cards in hand. I take them both, look at the room number and hand her back one of the cards. Let’s go.
I’m slightly irritated. It’s been a long drive. The kids behave pretty well through the hallways and in the lobby. The boy does have a rambunctious second or two. She catches the eye of the offending party, ‘not now.’ Continue reading →