I Was Almost T-Boned by a Fighter Jet — My Wildest Travel Story
All I wanted to do was bring my husband some damn spaghetti.
Early in my marriage, I accompanied my husband overseas to his first duty station in Keflavik, Iceland.
It was my first time living outside of the U.S., and Iceland did not disappoint. We went whale watching in Faxaflói, dog sledding on Langjokull Glacier, and chased the waves on the black sand beach.
While living in the land of fire and ice, he served as an air traffic controller, and I worked whatever job I could while continuing my degree.
Unfortunately, the hubs often had the overnight duty and frequently forgot to take his lunch with him. This particular evening, I got home late from work and could not make dinner in time for him to head off.
Whipping up whatever sad concoction I could make on the stove since I was still learning to cook, I decided on spaghetti. I gave him a call at the desk with a full Tupperware bowl of noodles in my hands.
“Hello, hun. Is it safe to assume that you didn’t pack a lunch for yourself?” I pinch the phone…