The Big Easy

My husband left me today. I've been assured it's only temporary -- as long as I remember to pick him up at the airport Wednesday night.

He's heading to New Orleans for work. Ahh, New Orleans. The Big Easy. I wonder why they call it that. Is it because of their easy living, their laid-back lifestyle? It could be because it's really easy there to crush the Vikings' hopes and dreams.

I know it's not called that because it's easy to get to. I dropped hubby off at the airport at 3:30 and by the time I got home, there was a message that his flight had been delayed and, as a result, he'll miss his connection in Chicago. So he could be spending the overnight on a hard bench at O'Hare. Not so easy on the back or neck, that's for sure.

This week works out sort of interesting for Carter and his "single" parents. He'll have Mom from Sunday to Wednesday, both of us Thursday, then just Dad from Friday to Monday while I'm at camp.

We were joking yesterday about who's going to spoil Carter more. I got a head start on the way home from the airport. I had to stop in at Michael's just in case they had a few things I needed. Carter stayed in the car and kept reading his book he has to test on tomorrow. He had been dropping hints about getting ribs tonight. So, of course, I said it was OK since he did well in school last week and behaved this weekend and gave me the "you can't resist your adorable son" look. Actually, I think he may have even said that out loud. There's no shame when he begs. (At least I said no to dessert. Yep, I'm one tough momma.)

I'm starting to think New Orleans shouldn't have the market on the Big Easy moniker. I'd say Carter could definitely win rights to it for describing his ability to get us to spoil him. Divide and conquer. Perhaps, it's just Too Easy.