My husband holds the title for World’s Greatest Procrastinator so you can imagine how much stress is involved getting him to help plan a vacation with me. Cleaning the teeth of a wide-awake, hungry bull alligator would be less stressful. So when I mentioned that Las Vegas would be a nice place for a vacation, I got what I expected. No comment and a sudden need on his part to take out the garbage which town law says shouldn’t be on the curb until after six P.M.

“Why do you have to take it out now?” I ask. “It isn’t even five yet.”

“Honey, the neighbors already have theirs out. You don’t want to be last, do you?”

“In taking out garbage?! Yeah, last is okay with me on that one,” I say to the back of his head as he heads out the door.

After dinner I tell him that I went into the website for the new “Wynn Las Vegas,” the brand-new mega-hotel built by Steve Wynn.

“Wow, is it beautiful! And the prices are not bad at all! Honey, you should see it!

No comment. He’s concentrating on the green squash which he has never paid any attention to before. Actually he hates green squash.

“Would you like to see it?” I persist. Big sigh.

“Want some more squash?” I say sarcastically. “I know how much you love it.” Bigger sigh.

Two days go by with my subtle hints becoming not-so-subtle as he finds
“things” to occupy him while he procrastinates. It isn’t until a dinner out with his best friend, who has just returned from Vegas, and is bragging about the fantastic time he and his wife had, that I see him get interested. It’s a man thing.

The next day I see him clicking away on the laptop computer.

“What are doing?” He just smiles and beckons me over to see. I look over his
shoulder and, wonder of wonders, he has the website for the Wynn Las Vegas on the screen!Impressed I throw my arms around him and give him a big hug.

“So you’ll help me plan it?” I say.

“Oh yeah, I’m really psyched, it is fantastic! But, honey, there’s a lot more we can do than just be at the hotel, you know. Let me check out a few things for us to do.”

“Really? Okay. You plan what you want and let me know. You’re so good at this
type of thing, sweetheart,” I purr in his ear, not at all ashamed to use the time honored promise of sex to get what I want.

By the end of the week he is finished checking out websites, online maps, and
airfares. He has neatly written all his info on a yellow legal pad and presents it to me one night after dinner. As I read it he hovers over me as if what he has written is the final draft for the next best seller on the New York Times top ten list.

I study the page and must admit I’m impressed. He has gotten airfares for
different times of the morning, written in the price of the Wynn, and jotted down of couple of shows to go see in Vegas.

“That’s great honey!” I turn to go put the dishes in the dishwasher.

“Wait! That’s not all. You didn’t read the second page.”

“There’s a second page?”

I am led to the couch where he proceeds to show me five more pages of his “research.”

Staying in Vegas, it seems, is only a pit stop. And a crammed pit stop at that.

I read the itinerary. Three fun-filled days in Vegas, which includes a
night time limo tour, a show at the Wynn, two shows at other hotels, a night of learning how to play “Texas Hold’em,” a trip to the Grand Canyon, the Hoover Dam, and a stop to see the world’s largest barrel cacti this side of the Mojave desert.

All in three days, why only three days?

“Well?” he asks dancing around me like a little kid.

“Oh, it’s, uh, it’s nice sweetheart. But are three days enough time for all this? I was kind of hoping for a longer stay, you know to relax, you know what I mean?” I say provocatively, squeezing his hand and hinting at honeymoon type romance.

“Oh, don’t worry about relaxing,” he says, ignoring the hint. “You can relax on the drive to San Diego!”

“San Diego?”

“Yes! San Diego! A mere four and a half hour drive from Vegas. We can see the San Diego Zoo, Universal Studio, Disneyland, catch a San Diego Padres game, and visit Lego-Land! Did you know they had Lego-Land in San Diego? Imagine it! The Padres and Lego-Land!” He excitedly flips a page and the itinerary continues.

“Wait a minute,” I say, “We’re going to drive over four hours through mostly desert and you think I’m going to be able to relax?” The suburban girl who lives thirty minutes from a major city, who has a plethora of stores available in a ten mile radius from her house, who has only seen the desert in movies where horrible things happen to the characters, kicks in.

“Honey, it’s a major highway! There are all kinds of people traveling that road.”

“Exactly,” I say.

“Just look at the rest of it, okay? Just look at what I want to book for you,” he tells me nuzzling my neck. He’s not above using the promise of sex either. Fortunately for him it works.

He has written down the name of a romantic five star inn in San Diego with
views of the mountains and the bay. Also listed, in detail, are times and dates for all the attractions he plans to see. But we’re not done yet.

Another flip of the page, and we’re off to a spa in Carmel-by-the-Sea.

“Carmel-by-the-Sea? Don’t you think that’s a bit pricey?” I ask.

“No, honey, listen. Don’t you want to see the place where Clint Eastwood was
mayor? I mean he was mayor there, think about it!”

“Is Clint going to be there?” I say flippantly.

“Maybe,” he says. “But, if he’s not, I’m sure you could get to meet the new mayor.”

“And what famous person might that be?”

“Sue McCloud.”

“Who?!”

“Sue McCloud,” he says with emphasis.

“Oh, of course! The famous Mayor Sue McCloud!”

“Hey, she could be famous some day,” he says defensively. “You never know.”

Right.

“And look there’s the Pacific Ocean and Pebble Beach Golf course. We could take a lesson with one of the pros! Great, huh?”

Hmmmmm. He reaches over and flips the page again.

I see “drive up Pacific Coast highway, stop at Santa Barbara, call Fay and
Henry for dinner, possibly stay overnight with them…”

“Fay and Henry?” I ask.

“Yes, remember? We met them at that wedding reception last year in Long Beach.
They said that anytime we were out there again we should feel free to stay with them.”

“We hardly know them! Besides I think they were just being polite. It was four in the morning when they said that!”

“Okay, so even if we don’t stay with them, we can at least go out to dinner with them. Gee, you’re always saying we need to socialize more!”

Omigod!

Two more pages of fun things to do, including a train trip up the coast,and I see “San Fran. Pier 39, dinner in Sausalito, airport-flight home.”

“Well? What do you think? I’m going to call and make the reservations now.”

“But all I wanted to do was go to Vegas,” I say exhausted.

“That’s your problem, honey,” he says, heading to the computer. “You don’t know how to plan a fun-filled vacation. Aren’t you glad I helped you with all this?”

excerpt from the book-
©"Life With a Husband and Other Fearless Adventures" by Kristen Houghton

The excerpt from this book is protected under copyright laws.No part of this excerpt may be reprinted without the express permission of Kristen Houghton.

Sacred Jude in My Life, Miracles Abound!!