sitting in.

Friday night. calm. Ready for the simple ease of sitting at home in quiet. Maybe watching a movie. Maybe eating Cafe Rio. Maybe not doing much of anything.

And then came the call.

I'm kidnapping you tonight. Clin called me last night and asked that I kidnap you.

How many of you have husbands that try to get rid of you, the wife?

How many of you have wives that then have anxiety attacks upon finding out that they are going to a nice dinner with 3 strangers and 2 friends? All of whom are the beautiful, happy, trendy, fun-loving, polar opposite of said wife.

And the emotions from the shock of realizing that this wife had not showered in how many days (we may never know), or worn much other than jeans in months, and has eyebrows that grow down and out and cannot be tamed. Even with glue.

And said wife tried to call the kidnapper in an attempt to get out of the forthcoming humiliation. And did not get anywhere with such arguments. Except for the release of more tears, a soggy puddle on the carpet, and the offense of a friendly kidnapper and the scheming mastermind husband.

The Weepies tried to calm the wife as three lanes of closed freeway traffic caused her to arrive late for the birthday dinner. A stranger's birthday dinner. Yes. Cause for more shock and awe.

Huddled in the corner was a group of intimidating, beautiful women. One wore an orange coat (of which the wife's dreams are made of), another had glasses that shined with trend and without dirt, a third sat spouting words full of dry humor and whimsy, and a fourth stood against a wall with a down to earth manner, fabulous haircut, and willingness to greet the woman with a handshake of welcome.

Eventually they ate. And they laughed and smiled, moving with life. A feeling of hope. A sense of future. Abounding in joy. Toying with the waiter, speaking with neighboring customers. The women squeezed into a booth - birthday stranger elevated halfway off the seat - all to allow the wife to be kidnapped.

They recommended food. They shared an appetizer. They discussed and laughed on topics familiar and strange.

And in the end the wife smiled. Enjoyed the slice of happiness shared. Found a diaper where a wallet should be. Echoed with a twinge of regret for sitting in on anothers' celebration. And marveled at the ease for which the women included the old soul that she has become.

Here's to friends willing to kidnap wives.

And here's to husbands who track down those friends.