The Finer Things In Life

Pinterest and I have become good buddies. Besties even. Pinterest always has the best ideas on how to spend my time and money. Just this week I made my own tortillas, painted a picture for the master bedroom, and ordered a Mr. T 'I pity the fool' teapot for myself for Mother's Day.

What can I say? I like the finer things in life.

The finer things in life reminded me of a conversation between my husband and myself while we were driving to Florida last month. I don't think I've shared this with you all yet.

It was about twenty minutes into a thirteen hour drive when I whipped out my Wonder Woman Snuggie to combat the frigid air coming out of the Honda's vents. Sometimes I trade rights to control the temperature of the car for Commander of the Radio status. This is one of those times.

Husband (all aghast): What. Is. That?
Me: My Wonder Woman Snuggie. Don't act like you've never met her before.
Husband: But … but … but we're in the car.
Me: So?
Husband: So people can see it.
Me: People? Like who? You and the kids in the backseat? Big woo.
Husband: Like other travelers … and truckers.
Me: Awesome! It'll make their day!
Husband: Seriously, why would you bring that on vacation?
Me: Because I like the finer things in life.

Homeboy does not share my definition of the finer things in life, nor does he share my desire to jazz up the long car ride back home from Florida.

Picture it: We are in the car driving home from Pensacola and about an hour into the drive we reach Alabama. My husband and I aren't speaking to each other any more over what I am calling the Jessie's Girl incident. I'm forbidden from going into specifics, but it involves someone blaring Rick Springfield and singing along at top volume, much to the annoyance of someone else.

Guess which someone I am in that scenario?

To amuse myself, I googled 'Towns named Jennifer'. Lo and behold there is a Jenifer, Alabama. Sweet nibblets we were in Alabama! Twas meant to be. It was as if God himself had agreed that I needed to go to Jenifer, Alabama, and get a picture of myself standing underneath the Jenifer sign.

I stepped out of my comfort zone and used the map app on my phone to see how far away we were from the sprawling metropolis that is Jenifer (one n, not two), Alabama. We were a mere ninety minutes away.

Ninety minutes, people. Ninety minutes. I am so there.

I broke the silence in the car by announcing that we had to do a u-turn in the middle of I65. My husband asked why. I quite excitedly informed him of Jenifer, Alabama, and that we were a scant ninety minute drive away from it.

He did not share my excitement nor did he do a u-turn in the middle of I65. Instead he told me that if you drive ninety minutes out of your way in one direction, you have to drive ninety minutes back, and that makes my quick little side trip three hours out of our way.

He did not see why I would want to tack an additional three hours onto our thirteen hour trip.

I did not see how he could possibly pass up the opportunity to take a picture of his beloved wife (whom I'm sure at this point he was extremely grateful to have married) standing under an official green with white letters Jenifer sign. Lucky breaks like this one do not arise every day, for crying out loud.

He refused to do a u-turn.

I pouted.

Silence ensued.

I didn't get my photo taken underneath the Jenifer (one n, not two) sign, which totally bums me out. It would have looked pretty spiffy hanging up in my Room O' Funk, right in between my picture of Elvie and my Mr. T teapot. What can I say? I like the finer things in life. Pin It Now!