Ol’ Dutch has been doing a lot of thinking lately given the copious amount of time on his hands due to social distancing. As most of you know -- and as pointed out quite often by Miss Trixie -- too much mental exercise on my part can bring about conspiracy theories, errors in judgment, whacko ideas, failed projects and just good, old-fashioned arguments.

Miss Trixie and I are about to celebrate eight glorious years of habitability and oh boy! has she been blessed from living around me. Why she rolls her eyes at me every time I come up with such wisdom I will never know perhaps she is having allergy issues like Cooper.

I don’t know about you other couples out there but getting one’s significant other into the car to go somewhere at our house is a real threat to Ol’ Dutch’s sanctity and mental health.

Our trip to anywhere starts with Ol’ Dutch sitting in the car waiting on Miss Trixie to double-check the burners on the stove, hot water heater, air conditioner, clean the kitchen, play a song on the piano, mop and wax the kitchen floor, text 219 people on her phone, wrap presents for the grandkids, take a third shower and clean the cupboards.

Yesterday was no exception. It all started with Miss Trixie, ever her effervescent self, asking me early on my plans for the day as she knew I was going to visit the grands at one point.

This was at the god awful time of 9 a.m. and before coffee.  I know, right? So I mumbled something about after lunch and she said that helped her know what to how to plan her day and her wardrobe.
Now here is where men and women part thinking. Evidently women think about what they are going to wear long before the actual event where they are expected to show up. Men are just not built like that.

We generally think about that sometime after getting out of the shower, admiring our manly physique in the hall mirror and farting the tune to Yankee Doodle.

Ol’ Dutch will open a drawer and whatever socks and undergarments are on top are the chosen pair. Then and only then do I begin to look for some pants.

The pant selection is usually whatever is handy and semi clean at least and what fits my waist for the week. A shirt can be anything hanging or folded as long as it’s not plaid with camo. I have at least learned that much from Miss Trixie and try to humor her in that regard by not going out in public like that. The things we do for those we love?

But it came as no surprise to me that four hours after our conversation about going to my son Bubs’ house, she was not ready to go.

So there we were, Cooper and I in the car, the air conditioner running and Cooper wondering where in the world Miss Trixie had gone.

I even made two return trips back inside to get my phone and iced tea and with as gentle of a voice that could be expected in that situation, tried to encourage movement from my sweety.

Eight years of being late to everything has not been unbearable, I guess, and that and politics are the only things we argue about and neither long enough to matter. Mainly because fishing and hunting are more important things to think about and my mind slips off our argument like a three-legged dog on an icy lake. Nirvana.

So for those of you with similar anxieties at home, here are some tips to surviving said experience for the long haul.

Learn to use your phone to peruse the world while you wait, learn an entire foreign language some morning, carve the statue David in the back seat, raise a family, pass from youth into old age or take that long-needed nap.

That nap will result in instant action on your partner’s part and they will show up sooner rather than later ruining a good dream like soap in your iced tea glass. And that’s another story for another time.

Kevin Kirkpatrick and his Yorkie, Cooper, fish, hunt, ATV or hike daily. His email is [email protected]. Additional news can be found at www.troutrepublic.com or on Twitter at TroutRepublic.