The Wolfsie home is preparing for our annual vacation.
Mary Ellen makes a list of things to do before we leave. I like to plan my return, instead. That’s why I always have a list waiting on my desk of things to do as soon as I walk in the house: empty suitcase, wash dirty clothes, pay bills. Mary Ellen says that worrying about things I have to do when I return is weird.
My approach to packing is slightly different than my wife’s. I went to Kohl’s the other night and found a suitcase about the same size as the drawers in my bureau. For every day we’re going to be away, I shoveled one drawer in. This is a pretty good system, if you need 32 pairs of underwear for a three-day weekend in French Lick.
Mary Ellen thinks about what to take on the trip. To me, this is as nutty as making out a shopping list before you head to grocery. She takes into account stuff like climate, how many days we’re going to be away and whether there are any events that require special attire. Can you think of a better way to ruin a trip? Where’s the fun that I experienced in Alaska when I spent an evening in the Red Dog Saloon knocking back a few brews in Bermuda shorts and long black socks? It takes a tough guy to be a girlie-man in Anchorage.
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The Internet is full of sites with packing tips. I looked at several dozen of these it’s a mystery to me how anyone ever made the trip west for gold without Ziploc bags, tennis ball cans and duct tape.
Moreover, my wife has read every book and watched every DVD related to our trip on the Nile River. When the Egyptologist attempts to wow us with fascinating facts about the pharaohs and pyramids, Mary Ellen will nod her head in agreement with each tidbit of his information. She does this every trip, which is why for her birthday I had a bobble-head made of her. She still doesn’t quite know why. I hope you can keep it a secret.
I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful trip. I’m going to write a column about it when we get back. It’s already on my list.