So here’s what you don’t do: When you are about to go on a trip for several days to the mountains of North Carolina, which just happens to be at least eight hours away, and your wife says, “My suitcase is at the top of the stairs, can you bring it down?” When she says this, and you say, “The suitcase? Bring it down? No problem! I’ll take care of it,” make sure you don’t do one thing: Forget to take care of it.
Because what you don’t want to do – what would be incredibly irresponsible and dumb and possibly criminal, depending on the jurisdiction and the judge – is drive all the way to the mountains of North Carolina, which just happens to be at least eight hours away, and find you don’t have the suitcase.
Especially not after you told your wife, “No problem! I’ll take care of it.” Because that would now be a lie. And worse, the suitcase would still be at the top of the stairs … at least eight hours away.
Because when you carry everything into the North Carolina house you rented and your wife goes to unpack her suitcase and then looks around and says, “Hey, wait a minute, where’s MY suitcase?” you will have to gasp.
It will be an epic gasp. It will literally suck all the oxygen out of the house. If there is a fire lit in the fireplace, it will literally kill the fire. Because you’ll realize at that moment that the suitcase isn’t there. And of course it isn’t. You can go out and check the car (better do that anyway,) but it will be futile. Because it won’t be there, either. You know where it is. You know EXACTLY where it is!
It’s back at home, at least eight hours away, at the top of the stairs. Right where your wife told you it was.
Told you a little over eight hours ago. Told you to go get it. And you told her – remember what you told her? – you told her, “No problem! I’ll take care of it.” Boy, was that a bone-headed thing to say. Because clearly you didn’t take care of it. Clearly you left it up there. Clearly you have doomed your wife. Because now she has no clothes, no toiletries bag, no nothing.
And now, here you are. You have your suitcase – good move. You have your daughter’s suitcase – remembered that one. You have the dog’s suitcase – WHAT?!? The dog has a suitcase? You have the portable electronic device charger and the beer you bought special for the trip and a bunch of Buck Knives that you figured might be handy if there are rabid chipmunks. You have just about everything you own, all packed up in boxes and bags and crates and other assorted containers.
You have it all. You have SO MUCH STUFF! And that’s looking pretty bad. That is looking awfully bad. Because your wife, bless her soul, has nothing. She has literally NOTHING!!! And this fact is just hitting her. Just sinking in. And she says, she actually says out loud, something along the lines of, “I don’t … I can’t … I’m gonna’ … I just have to go take a walk.”
And you think, “Wo, Boy! I’m totally getting divorced over this one.” So you say, “You want us to come with you?”
And she says, “NO! No, right now, I really just want to be alone … and maybe rip a pine tree out of the ground.”
And she says this in such a calm, controlled and (frankly) scary way that you think, “Yep, I’m totally getting divorced … and then she’s going to kill me with my Buck Knives.”
And your wife comes back and she sighs. And then you sigh. And then the dog sighs … and asks for dinner. And you all sigh. And then you go shopping. Shopping like you’ve never shopped before. “Buy it all, honey,” you say. And she does. And you tell yourself – you pledge to yourself! – you’ll never again say, “I’ll take care of it,” and then leave the suitcase at the top of the stairs, at least eight hours away.