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And
therein lies the rub. The "I thought" part. When traveling
with a man, you must get everything in writing, have an attorney
look I over, and don't close on the deal until your travel agent
reads the fine print.
"We
can see them next time," my husband offered as we whizzed
past a blur of what appeared to be the province Ontario. "We're
on a tight schedule."
This
is the other thing about guys - a vacation is not a vacation
unless you keep moving.
My
friend, Miriam, tells of the time she and her husband were on
a road trip out west and she spotted a large jewelry store along
the freeway and told her husband she would like to stop there.
"And
there he went, " she said, (incredulously of course), "whizzing
right on by! Can you believe that?"
Oh,
yes, Miriam, I can.
And
can you believe that my husband actually agreed to visit poet
Robert Frost's Place in New Hampshire several days later during
that same trip? I actually have pictures of him standing among
the dozens of poems nailed to the trees along the Poetry Trail.
He doesn't look happy.
Next
time maybe he'll take me to see the falls, like he promised.
I'll
have my lawyer call his lawyer.
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