Last August my parents gifted Mr. Fox and me with A Weekend To Remember for our eleventh anniversary. You can imagine our reactions were very different.
Me: “Cool! Two days with no kids!”
Him: “Crap. If this is one of those things where I have to hold hands with strangers and share my feelings I’ll hurt someone.”
A quick Google search assured him there would be no group sharing. It was a simple seminar with no small groups or embarrassing confessions. Instead we would listen to experts talk about topics we should be interested in like getting along, loving more, parenting better; and then we could go out on the town in lovely Schaumburg, Illinois and enjoy all the fabulous restaurants, of which there are many. None of this made Mr. Fox any more at ease. His jaw clenched so tight for the car ride out there I could see a vein throbbing in his cheek which, after eleven years, I have identified as a neon sign that says “Don’t speak.” He was probably plotting his exit strategy.