The Binny's Factor: Does TomTom need a Knucklehead app?

Whenever I ask my husband what time he'll be home from work, he'll give
me the ETA based on his iPhone's TomTom app. Unfortunately for me, the
TomTom app does not include the Binny's factor: the delay that will
inevitably ensue if it takes him down an "alternate route" that passes
by a Binny's Beverage Depot. This usually happens, coincidentally and
more often than not, on Fridays. Extra time to destination? Twenty
minutes. Minimum.


But who can blame the guy? He's worked hard all week. He wants a little reward for the weekend and if you've ever been to a Binny's, well, then, you understand why a person as in love with specialty beers as my husband can't just walk in and grab a six pack of Miller Light. In fact, I'm on dangerous ground just mentioning my husband and Miller Light in the same sentence.

We like to eat dinner together as a family because we've read all the studies and we don't want to destroy our childrens' futures anymore than we already have. His estimation of his arrival time at home has long been a bone of contention for us. I've been telling him for years he needs to do a better job of setting my expectations. If he realistically thinks he'll be home at 7:30, then he shouldn't tell me, optimistically, that he'll be home at 7:15. This will make me mad. Mad because when he arrives at 7:30, dinner will either be cold or burnt. He should tell me he'll arrive at 7:45, even 8:00, and this way, when he walks in the door early, I'll be so happy. Granted, this would be weird. A happy Kim greeting him. Perhaps he's aware of the undue toll this shock this would take on his system and so chooses to avoid it at all costs.

He used to take the El to work and his expectation setting was much more accurate then, within plus or minus five minutes based on when he got on the train. Now that he drives, even with all the technology, his guesses at his arrival times are all over the map. And of course, all bets are off when someone happens to walk into his office right before he leaves. Perhaps, I should just choose to do a better job of setting my own expectations.

I have an idea. Maybe I could suggest an app update to the folks at TomTom--the Expectation Setter! For any man married to a woman who wonders what time he'll be home, it will add a marital buffer. A fifteen to twenty-minute pad of time that will thrill her if you beat it or, at the very least, not have her so pissed off at your thirty-minute late arrival that she throws a burnt pork chop at you. I think this would be a great boost to the overall happiness of married couples everywhere. Perhaps they could even work in a Knucklehead App. You know, one that would navigate him to a florist on your anniversary.

Yesterday, dinner was dangerously close to being complete and my husband had, once again, exceeded his ETA.  Binny's, I though angrily.  But then, no. My husband walked through the door with roses. Historically we don't even exchange cards on Valentine's day; the ignoring of this totally commercial holiday normally our only gift to each other. And yet, there he was, twenty minutes late with a bouquet of red roses. Aww.

Maybe those folks at TomTom are way ahead of me.

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