If any of you know my husband, you know that he loves (and when I say loves, read "has a tremendous man crush on") Indiana Jones. There are so many stories I could tell that testify to his devotion, but there are some things better left unsaid.
What I will tell you about is his little adventure yesterday which was inspired by Indy and which left Hannah and I laughing so hard that I really do think I pulled something.
On the way to Hannah's orientation, my cell phone rings. It's Hal, who is supposed to be following us in his own car. I answer and he says dryly, "Can you please turn around and come home now?" To which I of course ask, "Why?" His response? A cryptic, "You'll see."
So, I make the required U-Turn and head home expecting that maybe the Beast (our 1996 Honda Odyssey) has a flat tire or won't start...again. What I didn't expect to see was my husband with his nose pressed flat against the closed garage door and his foot trapped under it. The look on his face was at once priceless and pathetic as he just arched his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. He was so adorable and so absolutely helpless that I almost left him there just because I could. But, I believe in karma and I think I owe him one for the pantyhose incident of 1997, so I hit the garage remote and turn him loose.
After Hannah and I stopped hysterically heaving from laughter, he explained how he ended up in a lip lock with the garage. He tried to be all Harrison Ford and sneak out from under the closing door after hitting the button, but alas, he is not quite so suave as his 66 year old mentor. As he was no doubt hearing the John Williams music fill his ears, his keys fell out of his pocket. I wish I could have been there when he attempted to reach in with his foot to retreive said keys - I guess he didn't have his whip with him and he was trying to make do. Indy would be so proud.