The Englishman Returns

The Englishman came home last night. His plane landed at 12:20 A.M. Yes, I said AM what was he thinking when he booked that flight? Earlier in the evening the girls and I had our last hurrah. We went to see the new Beverly Hills Chihuahua Movie (cute, corny but cute) and then went to dinner at our favorite little family restaurant "Parkside Cafe". We came home and I caught up on a couple shows I had DVR'd. (I am so glad the fall lineup started.) I was very excited about the Englishman coming home. Even though he was coming in so late I wanted to look my best. I did my hair and makeup put on my favorite jeans that fit even better since I have lost 11 pounds in my latest attempt at "eating healthy". The word "diet" just puts me in a bad mood. I wore a dressy shirt that I usually only wear to go out somewhere. In my mind, I had envisioned this great reunion at the airport like it used to be in the old days when he lived in England and I lived here. Then the impossible happened THE AIRPORT EXIT WAS CLOSED. I was instructed by very confusing signs to take a different exit. An exit, I might add I was completely unfamiliar with. I immediately pulled out the cell phone and called my own personal GPS system "aka" The Englishman and in a panic asked him where to go. The Englishman is a UPS driver and before that delivered bottled water so he knows our area like the back of his hand. He instructed me to make the first left after I exited. Well guess what, that was closed too. In the meantime, I keep losing him because he is in baggage claim where he cannot keep a signal. Not to mention there is all this traffic, why are these people not in bed? Why do all these cars have to drive 80 when the speed limit is 65? Where in the hell is the sign for this street so I can tell Englishman what road I am on? Why did I drive the truck (which is the size of small airplane) when I am so much more comfortable in the van? Oh, so there's where the The Dollhouse is (a strip club that is famous in our area). I always wondered where that was. Oh my gosh, FINALLY an airport exit sign. FINALLY, after 20 very stressful minutes which seems like hours. One incredibly frustrated, irritable wife makes it to the airport to pick up her stupid husband who picks a ridiculous hour to fly home. Needless to say, at this point I have lost all my excitement all I want to do is move to the passenger side so he can drive us home. Which he did, effortlessly I might add. After we got home I did give him a big hug and a kiss. He did tell me I looked really nice and slowly but surely the reunion that I had pictured in my head did happen, it just had a really rough start......