Before I begin today’s post, let me refer you back to an earlier entry I made on February 28th of this year titled Uncle Sam’s Darts. In said entry, I recounted Dustin coming home one day, long after we had already made our “wish list” for our next duty station, and telling me that he had just added Bangor, Maine to the list, which I still thought, at this point, was only in the rough-draft stages.

Here’s an excerpt from what happened next:

I said to Dustin, “Let’s sit down tonight and go over the ‘options,’ and then make a list of our first, second and third choices.”

And he said, “Oh, well, actually….I already turned in my list today.”

I went on to say that because Dustin didn’t include me in the final decision-making, he had just sealed his fate as the sole reason for any discomfort I might feel at the new duty station because I would always be able to say, “If only you had let me see the list before you turned it in….”

And then I mentioned something about probably freezing my @$$ off in Bangor, Maine, and it being Dustin’s fault.

“But I listed Bangor as number 7 of 7, Sarah,” Dustin said. “There’s very little chance we’ll end up there.”

On April Fool’s Day, just over a month after the “Bangor Incident,” Dustin came home, pulled out a chair and said, “I think you should sit down for this.”

“We’re going to the west coast again, aren’t we?” I said.

Dustin twisted up his face, smiled apologetically, and said, “The boys have always wanted to see snow, haven’t they?”

Yep. We’re going to Bangor, Maine. Can you believe my luck? It’s the city we fought over that day when I found out Dustin had turned in the “final” list without showing it to me first. It’s the city Dustin threw onto the list before I even knew it existed as an “option.” It’s the city I have been using during the weeks since to antagonize Dustin: “You’re going to be awfully cold in Maine, Dustin.” “When you’re shoveling 20-feet of snow, will you think about us here in Florida?”

However, after alot of crying and wondering if this could be reasonable grounds for divorce, I have come to a place of acceptance, and yes, even excitement about the adventures that await us in Maine. Mainly: (1) Stephen King lives there, and (2) I won’t have to wear a bathing suit. But also: skiing, Portland, LL Bean, Moosehead Lake, Acadia National Park, trips to Canada, trips to Boston, and, of course, throwing snowballs at Dustin.

I think Uncle Sam is having a very good laugh at this. Or maybe Dustin’s detailer. Either one.