Wearing A Sailboat to A Turkish Wedding

My husband Dan is about to leave for a month: two weeks in Turkey and two weeks on Rhodes in Greece.  In Istanbul, he will be celebrating the wedding of his cousin’s daughter.  It will be a huge, gala affair.  Black tie.  No “optional.”  Held in a palace.  Seriously.  On Rhodes, he will be staying in a thousand year old house in the Old City (The Old City is a castle. Seriously.) owned by his friend (more like a brother) Mous (not pronounced like what the cartoon cat chases).  The trip will be amazing.  For several reasons, I can’t go.

Yesterday, like any normal person who is about to leave the country for a month, and especially like any normal person who is about to attend a lavish, black tie affair overseas and has a million things to do and pack before leaving, Dan engaged in what is perfectly normal behavior for him:

He bought a sailboat.

I have already written about Dan’s numerous purchases whenever I go out of town.  They have included two trailers (mobile homes), a washer and dryer, and a motorcycle.  It hadn’t occurred to me that Dan would also exhibit this behavior when he, himself, would go out of town.  But it makes perfect sense.  And in addition to buying the sailboat:

He bought the sailboat on Craigslist.

This also makes perfect sense, since the trailers (mobile homes), washer and dryer, and motorcycle were also purchased on Craigslist.  I have resigned myself to his penchant for Craigslist and for spontaneous purchases triggered when one or the other of us leaves town. And I am especially happy that, unlike the washing machine, he didn’t try to bring the sailboat home in my little BMW convertible.  He left it right where it was, anchored at Solomons Island in Maryland, about 70 miles from here.

Dan leaves today.  Along with the usual concerns of missing him terribly and having no one to explain the TV remote to me, I have a slight fear that extremely large items will start arriving on my doorstep (Unfortunately, Craigslist can be accessed from both Turkey and Rhodes).  I’m considering putting a sign on my front door that says “Delivery of any Craigslist items larger and/or heavier than the size of a normal human being will be refused.”

Of course, that would allow for an actual human being arriving at my door who could, in Dan’s absence, be available to me for my never-ending technology mishaps during the course of an average day.  But I know Dan wouldn’t do that because he likes being indispensable to me. Then I can’t object to whatever he buys.  It’s a great trade off.