That January as he put away the manicure scissors after trimming her nails, I told him he should start making travel plans. The next October we had a great week driving from Shannon to Dublin.
Just last Saturday Frank and I drove to camp to pick up Emma. As we got out of the car he asked, “What would you like to bet that she won’t have her stuff packed up?”
I stopped and looked closely at him. “You know,” I said, “Why would you want to make that bet? Last time we picked Emma up from camp you said that. I, of course, did not bet with you, but she was all packed up. If we had made that same bet, then I would have won and if we make it now I’ll likely win.”
“Yes,” he said with a brilliant smile, “I’ll win.”
So, there it is, our disparate approaches to a peaceful relationship. I never bet and hope to never have to worry about one of us losing in any way to the other.
Frank would wager with me anytime and always be the winner. “If you win, I win,” he says simply. “It’s always a good bet.”