“Wh y don’t we plan a trip to Maine?” I asked the husband one night, after plying him with steak and potatoes.
“Hmmm,” he said. “We could do that.”
His fishing buddy called and suggested the Aucilla River.
“Let me get my hat,” he said.
Weeks passed, and I made a meatloaf. “Have you thought any more about that trip to Maine?”
“Hmmm,” he said. “We could do that.”
His fishing buddy called and they decided on Herndon Landing. “I’ll pick up some shrimp,” he said, not to me but to the man who needed bait.