Houston, we have lift off . . .

Guest post, courtesy of The Wife . . .

To DrChako's fellow bloggers, poker pals, and other loyal friends and readers, I post tonight to let you know he's taken the next step in our latest reality show. Several hours ago, he called me from Bangor, Maine to let me know he would soon be on his way to the big sandbox across the sea. As I type, he is likely somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, so thoughts and prayers for a safe flight. I am sure he will send a post for me soon; suffice it to say that he was in the best mood possible for a man about to go to war. Or maybe that was just to keep me from crying.

He did tell me that at the Bangor airport, the troops were met by volunteer veterans (up way past any normal person's bedtime) just there to shake our soldier's hands and wish them well on their journey. I guess that's the great part about being an American - we can criticize the politics behind this war every day in our news, and yet a group of aging veterans will drag themselves to an airport at 11:00 p.m. at night to wish people they don't know a safe journey. Small things tend to restore my wavering faith in humanity these days.

Technically, this is a poker blog, not a place for me to be maudlin. I'll save that for another blog I'm cooking up in my head - "Sending Your Spouse to War Sucks." So with that in mind, here is some obligatory poker (sort of) content:

The good Dr. and I have two wonderful sons. One of Son #1's best traits is a natural curiousity and genuine interest in fully exploring a topic of interest. Son #1 is fascinated with DrChako's poker habit: he likes to watch our "no money, all glory" home matches head-to-head, comment on our online plays, and have DrChako share stories from the poker room. He's also my son, so he understands the importance of a dollar. He's fully aware that DrChako's bankroll is a negotiated amount that can only continue to exist through good play, as the accountant in me will not let large amounts of our hard-earned wages to be dropped in someone else's pockets.

Last weekend, Son#1 spent time with his buddy Ryan. Ryan's parents are divorced, so with all of the finagling that went on about whose house he would be at, Son #1 must have had the topic on his mind. So after dropping Ryan off, we drive home and Son #1 says "Mom, would you ever divorce Dad?"

What a loaded question. Of course, I jump quickly to say "Son, I love your father. You don't divorce people you love." He pressed on. "What would make you divorce him?" I calmly replied that it would take something pretty big. "Son, Daddy and I have fights, but we love each other. Grandma and Grandpa fight and they've been married 37 years! Daddy would have to do something really terrible for me to not love him enough to stay married to him." I figured this was good enough. I was wrong.

"I know!" Son #1 exclaimed. He feels pretty good about himself when he thinks he's figured it out. "I bet that if Dad gambled the house in a poker game, and lost it, then you'd probably divorce him."

For a 10-year old, he's got this woman pretty well figured-out!

Safe travels, dear Dr. . . . and to the rest of you, keep the comments coming. I think my periodic recaps of your comments (where he is at, the blog site has been blocked) do wonders for his spirits.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife