'Preplanned' Packing

Call me sexist or a non-feminist or non-masculinist or whatever you want, but I firmly believe there are certain things women are better at than men: like childbirth.  

And I firmly believe there are certain things men are better at than woman: like using a urinal.

Under Women Only, I also list "packing." Under Men Only, I list "carrying luggage." With good reason.

Ten years ago, my sweet husband-to-be called to tell me that after our wedding he was taking me to a resort in Jamaica for our honeymoon.

When I asked what he'd packed, he said, "I'm still pre-planning it."

If I may digress for a moment...

People, what in God's green earth is "pre-planning"? Jay says it all the time. I don't mind Southern colloquialisms if they make sense. I've even been known to pepper my conversation with "y'all." It's quite useful as a plural second-person pronoun. But I can't wrap my brain around how one plans to make a plan! Or of what pre-planning consists since the minute one thinks, "I should pack shoes," then one is already planning.

Thank you for indulging me. Back to our story...

I suggested (whenever he got around to actually packing) that he include some nice clothes in case any of the restaurants at the resort had dress codes in the evening. He promised to do so.

Since we would spend most of our time on the beach located mere steps from our room, I brought (along with unmentionables) four bathing suits, three cover-ups, and several each of sundresses, t-shirts, tank tops, shorts, and sandals. Oh, and a couple of dresses for the nicer restaurants. Jay grumbled a bit when he hefted my suitcase for the first time, but I wore nearly everything I brought.

The view from our room.
To the right was the beach, where we spent most of our time.

When we arrived at the resort, Jay opened his suitcase (which was significantly lighter than mine). He proudly showed me that it was filled with dress pants and button-down shirts. Even a few ties. It was wonderful of him to remember, and I appreciated how great he looked on the few nights we went out for fine dining.

Unfortunately, he'd also brought only one t-shirt, a pair of shorts, and one swimsuit.

For two weeks.

On the beach.

In Jamaica.

He finally relented and bought another t-shirt (of the overpriced, tourist variety), but he washed his swim trunks and shorts in the sink. 

For two weeks.

We still had a lovely honeymoon, but, based on that experience, when we went to visit family in another state, I considered it my wifely duty to check Jay's suitcase before we left home. 

He was highly offended. 

So, like good wife, I apologized.

"I'm really sorry, honey; I don't mean to be patronizing," I humbly confessed. "Yes, you are old enough to pack your own suitcase. I was way out of line. Please forgive me."

"I do," he graciously replied, mollified.

"...which is why," I added, "I won't mention that the only pair of socks and underwear you'll have for the entire trip are the ones you're wearing to the airport."

"What? You're kidding!" he exclaimed, digging through the suitcase in vain for a pair of buried undies or an overlooked sock.

"Not changing your boxers or socks the whole time might get a bit smelly," I added, "but since you also didn't pack deodorant, shampoo, or a toothbrush, I'm going to assume that you're not concerned with how you'll smell on this vacation."

"You're kidding," he groaned.

"But that's okay," I assured him, cheerfully. "I can work around it. Instead of having people to come to my parents' house to visit us, perhaps we can meet our friends and relatives at the zoo where your odor won't be obvious."

He laughed, shaking his head at his suitcase in disbelief.

"Or rendezvous at a fish-packing plant," I continued.

"I can't believe I didn't pack underwear," he muttered incredulously.

"Or arrange a stroll through a cow pasture," I suggested.

"Okay, okay," he admitted with a grin, "I can't pack.

"Or we could say," I proposed, "that we've always wanted to tour the city dump..."

"This is why I need a wife. Pack my suitcase for me. Please."

"I wish I could, honey," I answered, sadly. "But by the time I'm done pre-planning and then making a plan based on the pre-plan that I'd planned, I won't have time to pack."

Pre-planning definitely pays off--he has all he needs for at least a month.

Verse of the day: (I Peter 4:10) "Each of you should use whatever gifts you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms."

P.S. As usual, this has been posted with Jay's approval. Yes, I did pack for him that day--and for every trip thereafter.

For another Jay story, check out She Said, He Heard. For a story about an unfortunate airport incident, read Our Trip was the Bomb.