Really, Mark, Really?

Last night, around nine, Trent was sleeping, I was writing and Mark was playing on the iPad. Suddenly, he breaks the silence and says, "Sooooooooooo." Eyeing him suspiciously, I say, "Sooooooo, what?" He takes a deep breath in and answers, "I've been doing some research and there are two spots left open for a Cabella's Argentinean dove hunt and it is really cheap."

Now, this gets my attention. This is a hunt that he and my dad have been talking about for years so I knew a little bit about it but I asked him for more details. He precedes to tell me the cost (which is not all that cheap like he wanted me to believe) and what the trip includes. The very, very last detail to be included in his speech is the date. He quickly sneaks it in that the hunt is April 15-22. Now, let me remind you...his big crawfish boil is April 13 and more importantly, I am due to give birth to his child May 7.

Shocked, I stop typing, look over at him and ask if he is serious. He looked so excited so I felt bad for a split second when I had to tell him that he essentially had to dream on. He looked so hurt that it made me rethink telling him no, he couldn't go. I then pictured the following scene: Mark is out of the flipping country, my parents are in California and my water breaks in the middle of the night. I imagined myself having to pack up Trent and driving to the hospital with a two-year-old. What if I had to actually give birth by myself? As these thoughts began to run through my head, I turned to him and said, "Not a chance. You are going to have to go another time." He then proceeded to tell me that the 2014 hunting schedule isn't up so I laughed and told him to wait a year.

I had to shake my head at him! It is just like a man to think that leaving a very pregnant wife so close to her due date in order to go hunting is acceptable! Normally, he is much more thoughtful than that and I am surprised that he would even think to bring it up but that is how he gets when it comes to hunting...he gets so excited that the blood leaves his brain and clearly goes somewhere else.

So, dear husband of mine...I am very sorry to tell you that you will not be leaving the country three weeks before my due date in order to kill some poor little birds. Maybe next year, Quick Draw, maybe next year.