So Guthrie was nice...

A little insight to my Tuesday evening.

Here's what I expected: To take my grumpy husband on a 25 or so minute walk to get him to cheer up and talk about his new job and our plans for the weekend. Then come home and fix a nice low-fat tuna casserole.

Here's what I got: A 10 minute walk with one word answers and then 15 minutes of limping home from stupid shin splints. Then a nice glance of my flowers while my husband tried to unlock the front door.

And then I got this: The look. The look of "ummm I brought my keys, but the house key is not with the others because we let the house-sitters borrow them a month before and I never thought to ask for them back; and I just started to lock the inside door in the garage this past week for no reason! even though we never have done it for a year and half that we lived here" look.

Then this happened: The back-up key holders (my sis and bro-in-law) were called and then visited 12 minutes later to pick up the key. We had to go an extra mile north to get there because some of the roads were flooded. After a little visit and a beer, we're off to go back home and grab a quick fend-for-yourself-dinner. Everything was good until we came upon a nice gushing river on our main road home. No biggie! We'll just go one more mile north.

...and then one more mile north...
...and then another...
...and another...

Until we end up in good 'ol Guthrie. Yes! Guthrie. 16 miles north of where we live. So then we "tour" all of Guthrie until we reach the highway on the other side and get to drive all 16 miles back south to where we actually started at 6pm. All this for one measly walk around the neighborhood to get my husband out of a funk. Next time I'll just chain him to the treadmill INSIDE THE HOUSE and turn 'er on high.

Oh well. Bran flakes at 10:45 pm make a good dinner.
Better ending to the day than the possum's that we hit somewhere along the way.