10:30 am — The cell-to-cell conversation went like this:
Me: So, do you know what day this is?
(pause)
Mr. G honey: Um. (pause) Hm. (pause) Wednesday, the 5th of May?
He’s so precise. Notice the question mark at the end. He’s not quite sure it’s the right answer. Poor baby!
Me: Yes. Yes, it is. But… do you know what else it is?
Mr. G honey: (pause) Um… hm… Should I know what day this is?
I’m grinning now.
Me: It’s Cinco de Mayo!
Mr. G honey: (pause) Hm… And that means?
Me: It means we’re eating Mexican today.
Mr. G honey: Oh! Great! I like Mexican.
Me: (laughing) See. We have a plan.
Mr. G honey: I just need a minute here for my heart to slow down.
Me: How so?
Mr. G honey: Well. When the wife phones and says, Do you know what day this is?, the male brain goes into warp drive. Did we miss an anniversary? A birthday? The day we met day? Then we’re sweating and thinking, Am I in trouble? Or, I’m so in trouble, because I don’t remember what this freakin’ day is.
Hey. Hey. Hey.
Happy Cinco de Mayo!
Elen Grey 
To be fair to Mr G, Cinco de Mayo isn’t exactly a Canadian holiday.
Am I too late for the margaritas? If not, I’ll take one with rocks, lots of salt. š
LikeLike
LOL But he is a California boy! š The conversation would have gone differently if he had just said, “No, what day is it?” Of course, I wouldn’t have had a post. You’re too late for that margarita, but there is a pitcher with your name on it when next you visit.
LikeLike