The Wife of a Singer-Songwriter: Part 3

On the road again, I just can’t wait to get on the road again, the life I love is making music with my friends, and I can’t wait to get on the road again. 
I want to yank Willie Nelson’s braids every time I hear that song.  Or every time my husband sings it to me, elbowing me in the ribs cause he known it’s such a cliche and he wants to see my eyes roll.
I’ve got a good man, a great father who is sometimes more tender and nurturing to our kids than me, and he is a lover to me in a million ways. But even he can’t help but sing when it’s time to hit the road again for a tour.  There’s nothing he loves more than his music tours. He is dancing around the house as he stuffs clothes into a suitcase.  He’s tickling the kids; he’s flirting with me. He’s cleaning out gutters and tightening up door hinges.  He’s never more attentive than the day before he leaves for tour. I can’t stand that.  I want to be distant. I want to pout.  I want to scream, But what about ME!!!??  Where’s my adventure?  Where’s my road?
The kids and I stand at the top of the driveway and wave goodbye as he drives away. I feel like a giant cliche.  Did he remember every piece of equipment?  Did he pack his guitar?  He won’t eat anything on the road today but sunflower seeds, I’ll bet you. I shake my head.  I have to let him do this his way or it doesn’t work. I hustle the kids into shoes for the hundredth time this week by myself.  On the fifth morning he’s gone I wake up just knowing he played a killer show last night. I can feel it. I can’t wait to talk to him.  I take familiar rights and lefts in my neighborhood. The kids bicker in the backseat. But there’s a good song playing on the radio, and it gets me thinking. If there’s a reason to parent alone sometimes, to shoulder more, to be taxed harder for the sake of your spouse, than this is the one I can live with.  This reason. I turn down our street.  I’ll let the kids eat cereal for dinner.  Then I’ll call him.  I hope his show tonight is incredible. I hope he banks.  I hope he floors the audience. I hope his music wakes them from their stupor, so that they be forever changed.