05/04/04
The Holy Wife always has a radio on, and it’s always tuned to a Christian station. Every morning they run contests. Sometimes it’s a test of Bible knowledge, and sometimes you just have to be the right caller. The Holy Wife loves playing these games. She has won more than a few CD’s. This morning the winner was the third caller. The third caller was the Holy Wife.

I found out when she came running upstairs and, smiling from ear to ear, told me she’d won. That’s nice, what’d you win, a CD? No. Concert tickets? No. I give up. Tickets to the -Sonshine Christian Rock Festival in Wilmar, Minnesota! That’s nice. Yeah it’s four days long and we can go camping! Oh my God.


This is not a little Christian Festival, it’s 20, 000 people. That was not a typo. But camping? I’ve never gone camping in my life. Starting with three nights at a rock festival seems like a steep learning curve. Maybe we could stay at a hotel? “Oh, no, camping would be free, and the kids have always wanted to go camping.” Right there I knew my only way out of this was major illness or death. The Holy Wife/Thrifty Wife/Super Mom had made up her mind.

One more time, I have never gone camping in my life. I have never used a portable toilet. They look nasty so I’ve always avoided them. My bladder and bowels can get me through a day, but I don’t think I can wait three days.

On the other hand, it’s three days of funnel cakes and corn dogs, so there is an up side. Yes, I AM kidding. Sometimes I think God has a warped sense of humor though.

Later in the day the Super Wife mowed the front yard; I mowed the back. I didn’t even injure myself. I had on some grungy blue jeans to also paint a piece of trim on the house’s second floor. I climbed the ladder a bit apprehensively because I don’t like heights in the first place, and my medication can make me very dizzy too. When she saw me up there she insisted I get down since I could get dizzy and fall. It made perfectly good sense, so I got down and she climbed up. I was grateful she was willing to do it, but also a little unhappy for failing the masculinity thing. To compensate I held the ladder, kept an eye on her, and never has a ladder been held in more manly fashion.

After the kids got home and everybody ate we rode bikes to the library. That’s a good thing to do as a fitness ‘thing’ so I have no complaints. Except we were riding into the sun the whole way and it was so blinding I could have been run over before I knew what happened, and it was really too cool, we should have been wearing jackets, we could have caught our deaths.

What always floors me on bike rides is that I change gears all the time. If we’re going up hill I’ll downshift till the pedaling is easy, I have no shame about trying to save my lousy knees. The Super Wife has never changed gears. Never. She does everything in 7th gear. This may explain why she has better legs than I do. That, and she’s the one who carries Train Boy. Do not hoot. Do not howl. It’s not that I’m unwilling.

His carrier is one of those seats that is above the rear wheel. It won’t fit on my bike, which has a wide frame that won’t accept it. Even if it did it wouldn’t matter. The Super Mom often biked with the kids before I would get home from work. She needed the carrier regardless. Never shifts with a six year-old on the back- Burly Mom.







Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com