My destiny, after telling this tale, is I'll most certainly be neck deep in hot water tonight and maybe a few nights to come. Husband would always tell his stories of our stay in Panama, Central America; and his adventurous work that sometimes took him to other areas much further south of the canal zone. He waded across snake infested rivers in chest deep waters with rifle held high overhead; trekked the insect, snake, disease and coco infested steamy jungles; and swept over the land in those seriously bad ass helicopters that were minus all doors; you know...macho, manly man, Sylvester Stallone, Hooah-Hooah...great stuff.
He would always keep us on the edge of our seats as he spun out his colorful tales. I was hard pressed to come up with any idea of gift giving one Christmas, an ad caught my eye in the local area newspaper, gathered opinions of all the rangers at work, sneaked over to a distant town city airport, and purchased the ultimate in gift giving for a Hooah-Hooah macho type of guy.
Weeeeeell...I was all wide eyed a flutter, my heart and thoughts racing like lightning bolts, keeping all that excitement bottled up in me was driving me loo loo...he opened the envelope, pulled out the ticket, and after 87 minutes of silence, said thank you. I just crashed, like running into a plate glass window, my face squished up against the glass as I slowly fade away, sliding to the floor with only a stream of saliva left on the window, my crushed remains in a heap at his feet.