Certain things never change. Take for instance me, fussing around final details before heading off the door. The husband waits patiently, leaning against the wall, mobile in hand. Wallet? Check. Keys? Check. Camera? At the bottom of the purse, check. Seems like everything is in place.
‘OK, I think we can go.’
‘Sure?’, his questioning eyes shift from the mobile screen towards me, and his arched in doubt eyebrows meet my assuring nodding. He opens the door, and as we step out of the apartment I turn around faster than he can say ‘I knew it, you are not ready!’, flush him with a beaming apologetic smile, and rush back in. A minute later I appear triumphant, sunnies in hand.
‘Now we can go’.
As he locks the door, I chime nonchalantly ‘Maybe I should go back and change to this other skirt, you know?’