A few weeks ago, my husband, Frank, took a week’s vacation from work. He didn’t go anywhere, so it was a staycation, but he christened it a Frankation. I’m not exactly sure what he did on his vacation, but I’m pretty sure bathing wasn’t high on the list. (As soon as he reads this, I’m going to have to take it down, so read fast).

Maybe he did bathe. He actually smelled fine, but he always seemed to be wearing the same two shirts. On the first day of his Frankation, he went to Walmart and bought a neon yellow sleeveless T-shirt and a neon orange one. I was extremely envious. I love neon clothes in the summer. To me, they signify summer, or Department of Transportation uniforms.

Anyway, I didn’t see much of him during his Frankation, since I had to work. Two nights before he had to go back to work, he seemed depressed. When I asked him why, he said that his Frankation was coming to an end.  At 10:55 p.m., while I was upstairs playing Word Whomp on the computer, I heard him at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey,” he called. “Doesn’t an ice cream run sound like a good idea?”

I walked to the top of the stairs and looked down at him. He was wearing pajama pants and the ever-present neon shirt. He was also barefoot.  I, too, was dressed in total neon from head to foot, but I was wearing shoes. It was immediately apparent who was going to make the ice cream run at 11 p.m.

The funny thing is, I didn’t mind at all. That’s what’s cool about our family. We’re all nuts. So, I got in the car and went to the 24-hour Walgreen’s for ice cream. I picked up several varieties so that I wouldn’t have to make a return trip. Our son, Luke, was also psyched about my ice cream trip, so I didn’t want to let anyone down. I have to admit, I was very surprised at the number of people at the pharmacy at that hour. Frank thinks they were all watching the hockey playoffs, like he and my son were, and needed refreshments.

Anyway, when I got home, I distributed the ice cream and got out the vacuum. As long as everyone was up, it seemed like a good time to get some cleaning done. The dog wasn’t thrilled, though, until I put some vanilla ice cream in his bowl. Once he saw the ice cream, I could have vacuumed him without his noticing.