Throw-down in aisle 3!!!

*** continued from previous post  ***


Ignoring me for the moment, Mom turned her attention to a display at the end of the isle. "What about these? This looks like it could work. Not as much storage as I'd like, but I think we can manage with this," she said, and picked up a nylon bag, about 2 and a half feet long and a good 14 inches high. Soft sided, blue, strong seams - it would work perfectly. I could see it bungee-corded to the luggage rack on the trunk. Of course, I couldn't say this to your Mom. "It's even waterproof," Mom said holding out the tag proclaiming 'New and Improved! Now 50% more waterproof!', for me to read.

"Why would we need waterproofing? It's not going to rain. It's August."

Mom was fast losing her patience with me. "You mean to tell me that it CAN'T rain in August?"

"Well of course I'm not saying that. That would be stupid. What I AM saying is that it's not going to rain on US."

"And why would that be, Mr. Weather Wizard?"

"Because," I said with a smug smile, "I've been monitoring the extended weather forecasts for every town between here and Carnack. No rain. Nothing but blue skies and clear sailing. As you can see, I am in touch with the Digital Gods. The word has been spoken in 0's and 1's and I have taken it to heart. No rain. So, the purchase would be pointless."

A noise escaped your Mother's mouth similar to a punctured tire going flat. "No, we're getting this one. It will be fine."

"No, we are going to keep looking. Even if we have to go out of town." I fold my arms across my chest. I'm making a stand. I still am holding out a slight hope for the Uber Tote.

"No," Mom said, cocking her head almost imperceptibly, "we are getting THIS one. Now. It's only $19.99."

It went on like this, back and forth, fore and back. Neither one of us budging. There may have been a head-lock involved. I can't remember, I think I blacked out. Your Mom has a wicked sleeper hold.

Finally, the afternoon ended with your Mother and I standing about 10 feet apart, pointing at each other viciously and shouting "NO YOU!!!". Because of the commotion, we were asked to leave the store. People are so picky about a middle-aged couple having a small spat that involves screaming and biting and rolling around on the floor. I mean, get a life people! Like the security team that ushered us out of the place had never had a public argument with their spouse? At one point I asked them, "Are you telling me that some of your most heated 'in-store' discussions, and possible criminal records, never stared out with, "I don't know. What do you want for dinner?" As you know that one can deteriorate into weapons. Quickly. Unconvinced, we were quite un-glamorously shown the door, but not before your Mom bought that bag. That big, blue, waterproof, 'perfect for the back of a motorcycle' nylon bag.

With your Mother victorious and I a defeated husk of a man, we went home to pack. Perhaps she had taken round one in a unanimous decision, but round two was approaching, and this round was mine.

I had a plan.

Sort of.

*** the journey continues tomorrow