The Other Woman.

Sadly it happens with many couples. Out of nowhere an intruder comes into your life and without warning, nothing is ever the same again. It happened in the Beland household. It’s true. The other woman, we’ll call her Elise. She’s wonderful, patient and oh so even tempered. Elise is the name I gave my GPS system by the way. And without her, I still might be driving around Washington DC, muttering to myself “There’s the Capital…again.”

There are certain traits I took from my father; a love of nature, a lack of hair, and a usually keen sense of direction. That all comes to a halt when I have to wander between Baltimore and Northern Virginia for work. They have inner loops, outer loops and loopty loops. There’s the occasional north-south parkway that runs east and west, and then my favorite road, the Baltimore-Washington Beltway. I have yet to find Baltimore or Washington on this road. In defeat, I broke down and did something I thought I would never do, and that is I bought a GPS system.

It was a low point in my directionally challenged journey. Then the voice appeared. Quiet yet confident, always two miles ahead of the next guy. Even when I messed up, Elise was there to softly add “make a lee-gel u-turn in .4 miles.” We got to really know each other while stuck on the Delaware Bridge, interspersing her road knowledge with the occasional “gas and facilities in 1 mile.” I must admit, I was smitten.

Of course like any new relationship, reality has a way of bringing you back down to earth. Somewhere around exit 16 of the New Jersey thruway, the phone rang. It was my wife, asking where I was and when might I arrive home. The conversation snacked with reality.
“Where are you?”
“I’m in New Jersey, and guess what?”
“What.”
“I have a new girlfriend.”
“I see…good for you. And she would be….”
“It’s my GPS system.”
“Well as long as she gets you home I guess. And maybe she could direct you to a place that sells milk. We’re out.”

I know, your reading this thinking “his poor wife.” Well she is not all sweet and pure in this relationship either. There are times when I travel for work and she is less than innocent. And it’s not just one name I might add, but two. Their names – Ben and Jerry. And I thought she was just being cute when she called me her “Chubby Hubby.” I started to become suspicious when she slipped and called me her “Chunky Monkey.” I hate monkeys and enough with the weight jokes.

There’s hope for us yet. I suggested she spend some time with Elise. Get to know her. Maybe miss an exit and really bond. Go for as long as you like. With a little luck the entire family can go on vacation together, and Elise can tell us where the local Ben and Jerry’s might be. Talk about an open marriage.