Could I just Take One to Go? And Come. And Go.

Just look at it.
So innocent. So tempting.

My Husby has as secret longing.

Oh, it's not a bad thing.

Unless you are the one purchasing the replacements.

Maybe I should explain . . .

My Husby has a secret yearning to run over traffic cones.

You heard me right.

He has always wanted to run them over.

I don't know why.

Because they're there?

Because they silently direct his life?

Because they forbid entrance?

All of the above?

But the fact remains that he would dearly love to run one over.

And probably would, if he weren't married to me.

The person who happily keeps him on the straight and narrow.

“Honey, you're getting a bit close.”

“Honey, you'd better move back into the middle of the lane.”

“AAAHHH! HONEY, YOU'RE GOING TO HIT ONE OF THOSE CONES!!!

Calm now.

Driving with us is an interesting experience.

Moving on . . .

He finally gave in to his urge.

But not in the way you may think.

No.

He went out and bought himself a cone of his very own.

For two days, it sat on my kitchen table.

Where he could admire it.

Then it found its permanent home.

In the center of our driveway.

Close to the garage entrance.

I stared at it.

Then at him.

What on earth was he thinking?

I soon found out.

Every night when he comes home from work, he drives over it.

Flattening it completely.

Then, when he backs out in the morning, it springs back upright.

Ready and waiting to welcome him home once more.

He's a happy man.

But who knew those things were so tough?

If I had found out sooner, I might have let him hit a couple.

Not.

Now what are we going to do about my secret urge to drive through one of those little wooden barriers that they put across restricted roads?