Today was my last day of my Thanksgiving vacation. I used 4 vacation days, and I got 10 days off in a row. Yeah, I know. But The Mrs. likes when I'm home so that I can "see what her life is like."
From what I can tell, her life consists of making hand-crafted Christmas gifts, yelling at The Childrens, and going from store to store spending money without a care in the world as to where it came from, occasionally broken up by cooking microwave taquitos for dinner or making a ham and swiss sandwich. Yes, it's time for me to return to work where I am sheltered from this and can concentrate on keeping that free-flow of money running.
Today being Monday, The Childrens were in their one-day-a-week school for homeschoolers, so we had to spend the entire time shopping. The Mrs. wrote out a list of six stores to go to, plus the library and out to lunch. Oddly, none of the stores involved buying groceries because we apparently plan to have nothing but turkey and turkey byproducts for the next week and a half.
Anyways, as I was performing my required chauffeur duties (I made the mistake of having The Mrs. drive somewhere once during my vacation, and she threw quite a hissy fit about not being mentally prepared to drive her own minivan in the middle of the day - she really pours on the fake dependency when I'm around), she was consulting her Google calendar on her Motorola Droid.
The Mrs.: "Oh shoot."So much for America's most extensive 3G coverage.
Me, CherkyB: "What?"
The Mrs.: "I was going to call Coldstone to find out what time they opened on Wednesday."
Me, CherkyB: "So call them."
The Mrs.: "I didn't write down their number. When we stop, I think I have a phonebook in the back."
Me, CherkyB: "Why do you need a phonebook?"
The Mrs.: "I don't have their number."
Me, CherkyB: "But you have the internet on your phone. You have a web browser. You have a Google Maps app that you can just type in 'Coldstone', and it will show you the nearest location. You can click on it on the map, and it'll give you the phone number. It'll probably even give you the hours."
The Mrs.: "No. The hours aren't on the internet. I checked when we were at home."