Commuter Husband pulled away from our home in his red Prius at approximately 3am this morning, give or take a few minutes. Commuter Husband does this most Mondays. He likes to be in his Houston office by 7am.
During the week, I have lots of space both in our comfortable queen bed and in the concrete double driveway. I admit that I do relish the freedom to take up whatever area I choose. However when Commuter Husband arrives back in Dallas after a four hour drive, he expects to regain full access to these zones.
Fortunate for me, Commuter Husband is the spouse who never moves at night allowing me to constantly traverse the bed as a restless sleeper; love this about him! The predicament is the driveway and the indisputable fact that I seem to forget every single week that I must share this asphalt with Commuter Husband where each of us is allocated exactly one half.
Weekly, Commuter Husband pulls into the alley and clicks the gate opener excited to be reunited with his family. He turns his small car into the driveway only to be confounded with a blue-grey Prius parked haphazardly across the middle leaving no room for his diminutive vehicle. Commuter Husband patiently reminds me over and over and over and I cannot seem to remember, ever.
Today, I arose to drink my coffee and take the first conference call of the day. I open the blinds to the backyard and nearly spit out my coffee with irrepressible laughter. My loving husband of twenty years has solved the problem: