Sunday, June 25, 2006
It Could Be Worse, Part II
Returning from Charolettsville today, I enter the kitchen to find a vase full of roses. Yellow. My favorite.
Todd says, “I had to apologize for not getting you gas yesterday.”
“I had no idea you were that mad at me?” he says.
“You’d be surprised the trouble you’re in half the time, inside my mind.”
We go into our room and collapse on the bed. The kids are playing down the hall. He’s laying on his side. I lay on my back, flopping my legs over his hip.
“And I wasn’t taking a hard line!” he says.
“Quit reading my blog.”
“It wasn’t that big a deal.” he says.
“If you’d like to discuss it, you can either:
a) get your own blog.
b) post a comment, and I’ll consider publishing it.”
Todd laughs and I pull him on top of me. The feel of him! The smell of him! His laugh. And then…the ultimate.
He gets up.
He shuts the door...behind him.
And leaves me alone to read for as long as I want.
Yeah, it could definately be worse!