So, as some of you know, I have been able, through an alignment of the stars, the selling of one kidney and the decimation of what's left of my savings account, to send Inappropriately Hot Foreign Wife and The Boy back to the home country for a visit.
Now, let me go back a step- have you ever had a conversation where you're just speaking extemporaneously, not really having a deep thought in the process, and out pops something fairly surprising, even from yourself? I had one of those moments the other night, where I was talking to one of my shipmates about married life. I said something along the lines of how it's a wholly good thing, but requires a certain mindset, blah, blah, blah, and then I said that a year ago, not only could I have never envisioned my life as it is today, but also that I couldn't handle it, that the whole experience is full of high-pressure moments that prepare one for tougher times ahead.
Go ahead and reread that. It's actually one of the more concise things I've blurted out, and it's true. I'm not the kind of guy who just blows off security, but I'm also no longer a pushover. Inappropriately Hot Foreign Wife hasn't seen her mother, or any of her family, for nine years. Many of those people have never met The Boy. So, when she asked me about going to Brazil for a few weeks next month, my first reaction was thoughtful and well laid out. I said "No fucking way."
My wife has a tendency to get her way, which is why I'm married in the first place.
So, the thought of spending 9 years away from my folks sealed the deal. I couldn't handle that. God knows how she has. Now, I'm contemplating some things... she needs a new car, too, but that's a problem for another day. For now, I'm just relieved that I was able to put this together. One of the most difficult things for me was facing the prospect that our schedules will be almost dead opposite for two months- that is, when I go home this time, for one or two weeks, tht'll be it for most of the summer. After that, I won't see my wife again for almost two months, and the prospect of living alone without her or the Boy, on my next rotation home, is simply awful. Then it hits me- this is how my wife lives over half the year. This is what it's like to be married to me.
So, she'll be going to Brazil, and, sadly, yours truly will not be going. No butt-floss bikinis, no flocks of naked dancing girls, no fruity drinks with funny little umbrellas. Rather, it'll be me, and I'll probably just be in the garden.
I've gotten spoiled,
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