Another Saturday night with the Mundts.

We have some friends who we adore. You are probably aware of Sherry and Dave's idosyncracies so we'll talk about our friends. Charlie's a cop with a sense of humor, Jill is his hyperactive ADD wife. Sometimes we get together after a Saturday night service at our church. One night, Charlie and Jill invited us to their house to play poker. Charlie and I made a beer run, and ran into someone in the store who he knows. We had fun telling his friend how, with six packs in our hands, we were on our way home from church and decided to stop for a few brewskies on our way to play poker . That's the kind of guy Charlie is, he loves God, loves to bust bad guys, and enjoys a nice beer once in a while. And he's promised to let me shoot a machine gun.

Steve is friendly and outgoing, a regal looking guy who will split your sides making you laugh with goofy faces and sounds, and Lauren is his wonderful wife who is going to get a medal in heaven for putting up with us all. We are all busy, and try to get together a few times a month, and do try to not let a month go by with at least one visit.

Well, Saturday night was our scheduled visit. The day was very busy for both Sherry (who was at work) and I. At one point in between chores and errands she had left a message on our voicemail with her new work number - I saved it to retrieve later and write down the number. I am bad when it comes to messages - too much experience with ramblers has led me to just save it to listen later if the point of the call is not revealed in the first 5-7 seconds.

As I had recalled, we were to show up at 6:00. Sherry was going to come home and get me and then off to the gathering we would go. At 6:30, I thought that Sherry had probably had a walk in appointment (she works at an assisted living community) wherein her time was invested. This had happened before and wasn't a cause for great concern. At 7:00 I thought she was closing the deal. At 7:30 I began to be concerned. At 7:45 I called her cell and left a message. At 8:00 I called Charlie and Jill, and left an urgent message. At 8:15 Sherry calls me and says those three little words that 10 years of marriage will bring:

WHERE ARE YOU?

Well hello, WHERE ARE YOU? I reply. Turns out that in the remainder of her message which I callously cut off, she had informed she was driving straight to the party after work and would see me there. A long pause ensued in which stupidity and shame saturated me like syrup on a waffle. I tried to mount a weak defense but Sherry's logic was inescapable - "I TOLD you in the message".

I hate voicemail.