The Hornet

I am actually a bit numb with shock just TYPING this blog post since I never dreamt I'd be a wife of a motorcycle man...but what do you know? Here I am, wife of a motorcycle man. It all started with the rising cost of gas (he drives a suburban to work every day), my neurotic complaining of budget problems, and my husband's desire to drive a two wheel death defying machine. I said no the first probably 35 times he asked, but when he did a full spread sheet on how much gas money it would save (sick that this is what had me sway slightly on the topic...) I managed a "hmmm...we'll see" instead of a "are you crazy? NO WAY!". Well, my husband took the "we'll see" as "go on Craig's list the next day and BUY ONE". I was visiting up the street with my neighbor when I see my husband driving up the road followed by a motorcycle and the guilt was written all over his face. You should have seen my march home AND the look on the poor bloke who drove the motorcycle when he saw MY face. Well, a few weeks and lots of practice later (oh and a new jacket and helmet...which is why I now affectionately call him "The Hornet") he is officially licensed and on the road. Heaven help us all!!