I started to write out an entry, had to leave the house for what I’m actually about to blog about, came back and realized that my husband deserves to labeled CERTIFIABLE LOONEY!
This morning Dirt Diver went to PT and everyone got cut loose about 20 minutes later, told to go enjoy a 3 day weekend. He rushed home, changed his clothes and was out the door. Off to do his “manly” thing of fishing. About 2 hours later he calls and asks me to get his ACU’s ready he got called back to work. I really dislike that part of the military sometimes. Anyways as we’re talking on the phone and I’m rushing around trying to gather his stuff, he starts cussing up a storm. He almost hit a turkey. A FRIGGEN WILD TURKEY on post! I didn’t even ask if he was okay sadly, instead yelled right back that he can’t hit anything with the truck anymore. I just dropped the insurance on the Chevy to absolutely nothing since we own it full out and are trying to cut costs anywhere we can at the moment.
Fast forward me throwing Monkey and Princess into the Dodge, almost getting my driver door taken off by a shitty ass MP driver who apparently doesn’t realize that just because our street isn’t lined for traffic, doesn’t mean you can drive down the MIDDLE of the road. Friggen Moron! I jet off to meet Dirt Diver at the lovely super fast pace of 15 MPH through housing, then hit the gas to fly like the devil at 35 MPH for 3.5 miles which really takes about 20 LONG flipping minutes. We get there and up pulls Dirt Diver, taking tread off our tires as he slams on his brakes in the parking spot next to us. One of these days I pray he will realize that he is not Dale Earnhardt Jr and he can not drive like him, until then I just giggle to myself.
He grabs his stuff out the passenger side of my Dodge starts to get into his truck when his face lit up and I knew I was in trouble. Turning back he says “oh babe I need ya take these home with you please”. Me thinking he wants his worms shoved in the fridge say “fine give me the worms” and that’s when he pulled out
Yupp the guy was still flipping and a flapping around. The idea of sticking this smelly ass mother trucker in my Dodge with the kids to ride the LONG LONG 3.5 miles back to our house made me wanna vomit. I HATE seafood. Anything that has lived in water does absolutely NOTHING for me but want to gag, cry, squeal and run away. Reluctantly I agree to taking it home for him.
Thinking that’s over with, I start the engine up to hear him say “Wait babe can ya take my friend home too?” *cuewhiplashwithsquintyeyes* “Say WHAT fool?!” He pulls out a 12 pack Pepsi carton, sticks it THROUGH the passenger window and says with a HUGE smile “It’s my friend! See?”
After freaking out and yelling at him for being a ‘tard for taking a turtle home; the little guy’s relaxing in our backyard right now till Dirt Diver gets off work and can take him BACK to the lake where he belongs! I truly wonder what goes through that man’s mind some days. How in the hell did it become a “great” idea to “kidnap” a turtle? His reasoning was the turtle was on the side of the road, asking for a new home and was thirsty! Really? Did my GROWN 26.5 year old husband just tell me a TURTLE the size of a softball was BEGGING to come home with him?
Sometimes I wonder if it’s too late to return Dirt Diver, I still have the receipt.