Thursday, June 09, 2011

I Should Warn the Gift Shop

I'm taking WG (and Curbie) on a field trip. I hadn't exactly disclosed our destination, but WG caught on to the fact that it was at the very least in a westerly direction.

"Are we going to Illinois by chance?"

"Maybe," I said, knowing he had figured out that we were going to see a very dear friend of mine.

"Can I ask whereabouts in Illinois our destination is? I mean, is it southern or northern....or perhaps anywhere near the Quad Cities??!"

For a moment, I thought he was just hoping to have the chance to see where I went to college, or where I spent the first five years of my married life - to see, even where Jacob was born and spent his first couple of years, excited, maybe to have the famous Whitey's ice cream...but who am I kidding? I knew better.

"Yes, WG. We will be right in the Quad Cities," I replied, knowing the giddy smile that was about to come upon his face - the sheer excitement that is normally reserved for small children on Christmas Eve.

"Do you think maybe we could...I mean...would it be okay if....I don't mean to impose but..."

"WG, John Deere Headquarters is already on the itinerary."

"You're the best girlfriend EVER!"

It's the little things, I guess. Or the big green ones in this case.

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