And you thought we’d never expand our family.
She’s British. Well, she speaks in a British accent.
Madge is our new GPS.
On our way to Branson last night, the Pastor proclaimed, “I like Madge!”
Do you know how many dates I went on with the Pastor before he was able to say (text me) “I like you?” Do you have any idea the kinds of things I had to do for that? Do you know how many dates I had to go on before he proclaimed it? A month before we got married, and he was still talking in the broad generalities of “combining cell phone plans.”
But Madge? Madge is different. One date, and he likes her.
Hold on though. When we were within 15 miles of our destination, suddenly our car turned into a lone icon on a blank, black screen. Welcome to the Ozarks.
Don’t steer me wrong Madge, said the Pastor.
C’mon Madge, find the road Madge.
Awwwww, how cute! Their first fight!
It was scary there for a minute or two (for the Pastor). Secretly, I was on the other side of the vehicle internally snickering to myself that maybe Madge wasn’t so hot after all!
She got us to where we needed to be. But did Madge pack his Smurf shirt? His cell phone charger? Noooooooo! In fact, did Madge pack Madge? No! If it wasn’t for me, she’d still be on the nightstand, so suck on that.
I think the Pastor takes for granted that the Packing Fairy magically gets all things ready for the trip. He doesn’t have to worry about things like laundry and packing and snacks, and the only thing he really has to worry about is getting to our destination. And even though the Pastor is smarter than anyone else I know with a map, since Madge helps him with his one task (the one thing I’m completely useless at) he really, really likes her.
Not to worry. I’m not the jealous type. The Pastor and Madge can have their love affair. What do I care? Madge did take me to Shake’s tonight. Frozen custard!!! OK, by the time I was done with the clerk, it was more like a cup of caramel topped with a dollop of frozen custard. What’s not to like?