On the way home from the retreat, I received a call from my son,
“When are you coming home?”
A half hour later, I received a call from my other blessing,
“When are you coming home? . . . Hello?? Aren’t you in the same house??
How do you get out a pollen stain?” Back to reality!
“By the way, I’m making dinner tonight, so you don’t have to after your long weekend.”
Ooooh, maybe it’s a new reality!!
Once home, I ask my son to tear himself away from the TV to fetch my other bags.
“Sure, Mom.”
5 minutes later, I ask my son to tear himself away from the TV to fetch my other bags.
“In a minute.”
10 minutes later, I ask my son to tear himself away from the TV to fetch my other bags.
“I will.”
15 minutes later, I grab the remote with fire in my eyes and ask my son to tear himself away from the TV to fetch my other bags.
“Why can’t Lauren do it? I’m so-o-o-o tired.” Maybe not a new reality!
Okay, in his defense, his school play was this weekend, and there was lots going on, and he was exhausted. He did get the bags, and he's now napping on the couch.
And Lauren is in the kitchen cutting up chicken for our dinner listening to Christian radio. Oh, joy!
And Tony surprised me while I was away by putting up the new curtain rod in the living room.
Aaaaah! Back to reality, new or not, it’s good to be home.
***********
ps-
I have so much to share with you about the wonderful weekend I had with the terrific ladies from the PVCA retreat. In the days to come, I will share some humorous, inspirational and poignant stories and photos. Stay tuned!!
Susan
2 comments:
I'm so glad you had a good time. It does sound like you are back to reality - could be my house!
Susan,
Paul and I left the kids home for a few hours and went to have a couples massage yesterday afternoon. In the middle of our massages my cellphone goes off. Naked, under a thin sheet, I am trying to move ever so gently to get the cellphone from my purse without exposing anything middle-aged and frightening...FInally, I get the call on the last ring. "You'd better be on fire..." I say into the phone to my son David. He tells me, "Mom, tell dad that I shot a squirrel."
Really? He shot a squirrel. And lets not overlook the fact that my son was shooting a pellet gun when we weren't home.
So much for a stress-free massage.
Love, Joanne
p.s. I can't wait to hear all about your conference!
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