Bus Calls Are Better Than No Calls

The Soldiers of the 35-deuce are very busy right now...training for their mission in Iraq and meeting with some of the Soldiers of the unit they will be replacing. While most of the unit is doing further training in the field, Neal is part of a smaller group who retreats to a secret secret (which is not completely ridiculous...they do have a higher higher headquarters, after all) location everyday to recreate logistical scenarios. Because of the secret secret nature of this spot, all cell phones are turned off and turned in prior to entering the building. This means I get text messages and/or phone calls when they load the bus to return for chow. My husband, in all of his infinite wisdom, realizes it is best to contact me whenever possible. Chief HasNoRhythm (who made his debut on Magnolias & Mimosas) also calls his blushing bride, DivaV, when they are en route to and from chow.

On the bus.

Over a couple of molten lava cakes last Sunday, DivaV and I coined these as "bus calls." Although, sometimes they are "van calls"... A bus call typically goes like this:

A: Hey, handsome!
N: Hey, beautiful! (This routine greeting started during the first deployment and happens every. single. time. Even in the middle of Target, even in the middle of a briefing.)
A: How's it going?
N: (saying something but only catching every 4th word due to yelping, hollaring, and the occasional cackle)
A: I didn't catch all that. Where are you all headed?
N: "I"...scream..."we are"....hysterical laughter...."toward"...someone else's conversation..."secret"...singing...
Come to think of it...it's a lot like the camp bus from 4-H.
A: Ah...OK.

And on we go, discussing what was for lunch (fish), what they did that morning (briefings), where they are headed (secret secret location) with me piecing together Neal's words and holding the phone about 3" from my ear the entire time.

Neal, for all of his amazing super-husband qualities, cannot multi-task at all. I mean, he can...it's just not very pretty. So, he will swear up, down, and east-west that he can carry on a conversation with me while riding a 15 passenger van with 14 other passengers and be completely devoted to our discussion. I know that's not true...you know that's not true...and deep down in his secret secret place, he knows that's not true, too. But yesterday he said, "Well, I can call you back later, that's fine." and I halted him dead in his tracks. Because even though no one on the secret secret location bus knows how to use their inside voices, a bus call is better than no call. So, I will use my powers of deductive reasoning to determine what my husband is trying to tell me and be thankful that we have these 5 minutes here and 5 minutes there. Like exercise, it adds up over the course of the day and almost equals an actual conversation and I will take it.

I will also say that finding privacy in the Army is like that reoccurring dream I have where I desperately need to go #2 but can't find a bathroom stall with a door. I run up and down corridors and can only find toilets that are installed in the middle of large conference rooms. Just like you can't go #2 in the middle of a conference room, you can't really have a conversation with your wife on a 15 passenger van. So, I would like to say here, publicly, thank you to my husband for getting out of bed last night (in a room that he shares with 2 other Soldiers) and escaping to some privacy. It's not about phone sex, it's about hearing him say "I love you" and really really mean it. In his secret secret hiding spot.