I woke up with a start around three in the morning.
"What if they don't have CABLE in Montana?" I burst out, sitting upright.
I don't know why I said that. My mind isn't quite there that early.
(And for those who don't know, Tom got orders to Montana. We're moving. Our report no later day is 30 November.)
Tom stirred beside me. "Huh? Is it time for work?" he mumbled into his pillow. He usually wakes up around 330 for work.
"No, it's not work. It's CABLE," I said dramatically, grasping the covers to my chest.
It also didn't help that I had gone from sleeping in a comfortable, spacious king sized bed and had been transported to a full sized one that I'm expected to share with my shifty husband.
My night had gone like this since I had climbed into the small bed with Tom:
*SHIFT SHIFT SHIFT SHIFT FART SHIFT SHIFT SHIFT SNORE SNORE SNORE GROAN SNORE SHIFT SHIFT SHIFT SHIFT FART SNORE GROAN*
I mean, he did all of that in the King sized bed at the beach. But it didn't matter because I had my own entire corner and was unphased.
In a full sized bed, that's just not the case.
So I didn't feel so bad over the fact that I had woken HIM up.
"What about the cable?" Tom mumbled.
"What if Montana doesn't HAVE it?" I hissed. "How am I supposed to find out if Izzy lives on Grey's Anatomy? How am I supposed to figure out what in the world is going on in Lost? . I need to watch the new season of The Tudors even though I know how it all ends but STILL...
Tom made a strangled noise. "Geez Amber, it's MONTANA. Not some remote village. Of course they have cable."
Oh. Right. I was mistaking Montana for those places that people trek out to on The Travel Channel where tribes dance around for fun and get high because they claim the Gods tell them to do so.
"Okay," I said, relief washing over me. I laid back down and went back to sleep..
...or at least I tried because as soon as I was about to drift off Tom's man arm went across my neck and his hot stale breath blew right into my face.
And to think, some women LOVE being that close to their man at night.
Maybe something is seriously wrong with me?
I mean, suppose Michael Phelps were my boyfriend. Would I want my space then?
Probably. He's very very tall and I imagine his very very tall legs would toss all over me and this would cause me to be like, "Michael! Would you keep your massive ligaments on YOUR side for craps sake? You may have won gold medals but it doesn't give you the right to hog the bed!"
I just like my space.
When Tom woke up the next morning he and my Mom went down to the base to see about sorting out the orders.
You see, we don't really want to go to Montana.
So Tom was going to try to argue it.
It didn't work out well.
When he returned home he came bearing Burger King. He probably wanted to distract me with food.
"I got you an angry whopper!" he said in a sing song voice, waving the bag. This alerted me because Tom doesn't usually speak in a sing song voice unless he's nervous.
"Thanks," I said distractedly. "What about the orders? Do we still have to go?" I crossed my fingers hopefully.
"Er..." Tom paused as Mom walked in with some bags of food.
"Are we going?" I tried again, my voice faltering. I already knew the answer.
"Yes. I'm afraid we can't change the orders. Apparently they desperately need K-9 handlers in Montana," Tom said with a shrug.
I sighed. "Oh..."
Crap. Crappity crap crap.
"So..back to the cold for us, I suppose?" I said lightly. I was really working on being a Supportive Wife like the ones on Army Wives.
"Yes," Tom said.
"There's no Gymboree in Montana," I said in a small voice. I had looked up all the stores while he was gone just in case. No Gymboree. No Gap. No Kohls.
Target, yes. That's something. I thought at first there was no Target.
"But there's a Golden Corral," Tom reminded me. He had woken up early and had done a bunch of research. For me. He had scribbled down all the places he thought I'd be interested in and when I woke up he showed me the paper.
"There's a mall. A small one but a mall at least. And..I can drive you to Missoula I think it is and I believe there's a Kohls there. There's a Wal-Mart..a McDonalds...a Quiznos...Furniture Row..." Tom prattled on as I stared at this list.
"This was sweet. Thank you," I said, giving him a hug. That's Tom's way of being romantic. He may not be the type to surprise me with a limo and wisk me off into the sunset but he does try.
It looks as though we'll be going. Tom may ask around when we get home tomorrow but if Montana needs K-9 handlers then he's probably stuck.