Bonehead was in the Navy when we first got married, stationed on a submarine. After we’d been married for about a year and a half, his time was up on the submarine and he went to San Diego in order to attend Corps School. Because the length of his school was just under six months, the Navy would not pay to move me with him. We’d decided it was best for me to wait at home with my parents until he had the location of his next station, so I went home to live for a brief time with my parents and await his graduation.
The weekend before my 21st birthday I flew to visit him for the first time. He went away to Corps School in August and my birthday is in November, so we hadn’t actually seen each other in about three months. I had been away from Bonehead for 3 months before, but this time was different. This time I had not watched him pack himself like a sardine onto a nuclear powered tin can. This time I didn’t have to worry about anything flooding, catching fire, blowing up, or sinking. This time I could talk to him at least twice a week.
Even so, I counted down the days until I was able to see Bonehead again. As the weeks got closer and turned into days, I got more and more excited. The day of the flight, it was all I could do to concentrate at work long enough to form a complete thought. It seemed to take forever, but finally my work day was over and it was time to go to the airport for the flight out. The flight took an eternity and I surprised myself by actually sitting still on the flight from Illinois to San Diego.
Bonehead met me at the airport. We took a taxi to the Navy Lodge. I thought for sure the taxi driver was trying to kill us all, but I tried to focus on conversation with Bonehead and not on the cab darting in and out of traffic with a terrifying speed that would put the space shuttle to shame.
I have to admit once we got to the hotel we got a bit lost in the moment. I hadn’t seen my husband in about an eternity and a half so we forfeited the conversation and began to do, well, what husbands and wives are known to do.
After all was said and done and reality came flooding back to us, I heard Bonehead say, “Uh-oh.” Which of course was followed immediately by my, “What?”
It was at that point that I saw what he saw. It was that point that I wanted to crawl under the covers and hide for the rest of the weekend. I actually thought about leaving the hotel through the window from that point forward. I never imagined that a two inch gap could feel as large as the width of the Mississippi at its widest. It was at that point I flushed so hard that Crayola could have created Rendezvous Red in my honor.
It was at that point that Bonehead got up and closed the hotel room door.