Losing Control

I know I sound like a broken record, but I'm really trying to figure out how my Favorite Panamanian so skillfully turns the tables on me, seemingly effortlessly. I got into a modicum of trouble over her last few days in Panama by constantly reminding her not to forget the new Superstream TV box that I received as a gift for Christmas. It was a true Godsend during our time at the beach and I was a little nervous about leaving it with her. She demanded it remain in order to watch her telenovelas which, in a huge breach of common sense, I had showed her how to tune in. Anyways, every time we talked, I reminded her not to forget it along with the remote.

Asking About Remote

I asked her on drive back from the airport and she indignantly assured me that she had packed it and double checked that it was in her suitcase. I felt confident we were all set and blithely accepted the situation. It was so crazy during our return that she didn’t get around to unpacking until yesterday. I felt like a kid in the proverbial candy shoppe waiting for the device to emerge. She proudly placed it in my hand but looked scared when I asked where the remote was. She said she had seen it over the weekend in the suitcase so it had to be here somewhere.

Assurances it is Here

There followed a frantic but fruitless search. Casting at straws, she said the two oldest granddaughters had been playing in the area over the weekend and we reached out to them to see if they had acquired the device. They professed complete and believable innocence since it didn’t involve my wife’s shoes which would have been a dicier proposition. My Favorite Panamanian reluctantly called her mother to learn the remote was sitting in her bedroom back in Panama.

Meanwhile, Down in Panama

It would be at this point a smart man would accept the situation stoically and figure out what to do next. I’m not that smart. She apparently did not appreciate the somewhat salty expressions I used to express my general dissatisfaction with the situation. I told her I wasn’t angry at her but at the circumstances. This did no good at all and I entered the dreaded “silent zone”, the wife’s most devastating weapon, especially compared to her usual communicative state. So, there’s my quandary. I had her dead to rights, dropping the ball on something she knew was important to me and I end up being the one in trouble. Where does she get these marvelous techniques?

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RECURRING CHARACTERS:                                        

ABFA – Amazing Best Family Athlete - my daughter in law; BR3 – Blog Reader #3 – granddaughter #3; BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her single days in Brooklyn; Deckzilla – our backyard deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of course); FBR - First Blog Reader - first granddaughter; First Friday – celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Great Aunt - my elder sister; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Kindergarten Friend – friend since kindergarten whom I reunited with after many years; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3^rd musquetera (musketeer); Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member; PanaGals – female relatives /friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; Pittsburgh College Roommate– high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy, son's dog; Soxfather - my brother in law; Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course