On the Run
Andrew and I spent yesterday in San Francisco—Andrew had a conference to go to, and I got to spend a day in a big city. Win-win! When it was finally time to leave last night, however, and Andrew said in resignation, “Well, we should probably get back,” I gave my usual response. “Alright,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll go—if you can find me!”
In my mind, the scene that plays out from there is me suddenly sprinting away, disappearing into the folds of the city at full speed; with a shout, Andrew runs to the car and veers onto the streets in a desperate quest to find his wayward, running wife. The scene varied a bit in New Hampshire. “I’ll go—if you can find me!” I announced—imagining running deep into the woods, never to be seen again. (In Sacramento, that is.)
It’s become a running joke between us, though Andrew finds it only mildly amusing. Alarm is probably a more accurate reaction. He always does hold my hand a bit more tightly as we make our exit from wherever it is we are; admittedly; the tone in my voice as I deliver my sing-songy taunt generally has a slight edge of genuine threat. Ah well. This time, at least, I followed him to the car without struggle.
In my mind, the scene that plays out from there is me suddenly sprinting away, disappearing into the folds of the city at full speed; with a shout, Andrew runs to the car and veers onto the streets in a desperate quest to find his wayward, running wife. The scene varied a bit in New Hampshire. “I’ll go—if you can find me!” I announced—imagining running deep into the woods, never to be seen again. (In Sacramento, that is.)
It’s become a running joke between us, though Andrew finds it only mildly amusing. Alarm is probably a more accurate reaction. He always does hold my hand a bit more tightly as we make our exit from wherever it is we are; admittedly; the tone in my voice as I deliver my sing-songy taunt generally has a slight edge of genuine threat. Ah well. This time, at least, I followed him to the car without struggle.
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