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