A Rose . . .

. . . or maybe just some thorns.

It's been a somewhat thorny day for both of us. Of all the things I aimed my "point and shoot" at today, this seemed the most relevant.

We learned a long time ago that when we both arrive home at the end of the day, the first one that recognizes that the other one is exhausted is the one who wins in getting to wave the pompoms to usher in some cheer.

My day involved having the Dean of Instruction in my classroom first thing this morning to evaluate my teaching ability and ability to keep order in a classroom. I think I received a passing score. I'll know in a few weeks when my evaluation team writes-up their reports. This many years in, I should not be flustered by an evaluation. But I am and was this morning. The remainder of the day found me in Writing Center duty, office hours, a 1-on-1 meeting with a computer tech, and a Matriculation Advisory Committee meeting. I hurried home to wrap-up a package to put in the mail to our youngest grandchild, Tristan, and also had Easter cards to sign and put notes in for the 3 big grandkids. Then a dash to the Post Office.

Mr. Fun arrived home just in time to make the dash to the Post Office with me. His day was also grueling. He was not doing something that happens only once every 3 years. His day was much more common than that. But nonetheless, it was a long and wide day with plenty of emotion and stress.

I listened to him unpack his day as we drove. Once we headed for home, he said he was starving. It's Thursday, so with the thought of "date night" firmly in the forefront of my mind, I said, "You want to go out to dinner?" "Not even!" was the reply. I knew that he was stuck in the "compartment" of his day. I sat quietly as he drove us on home while talking 90 miles an hour trying to exhale his day.

Once home I quickly steamed some veggies and threw together a salad. Because of his diet, he usually has his main entree and I have something different. Once all the food was on the table and I got him to end the phone call he was on, we began having dinner together. It was somewhere in the next few minutes he said with surprised revelation, "Uh, it's date night, isn't it?"

I just looked at him, nodded my head, and looked away. Up till that moment I had been doing okay with being the one who needed to be the cheerleader . . . I knew he was exhausted. But when my moment to step-up to the plate arrived, I failed.

I thought you should all know that "date night" went in the dumpster! Week after week you read my thrill at how wonderful Thursday evenings are. So I thought you should know that occasionally Mr. Fun & Rosie hit a speedbump. Tonight was one of those times.

So just before the light of day was gone and right after we finished eating dinner, I walked out into the backyard. I earned an A+ resisting the temptation to pitch my cheapie camera over the fence and into the meadowland. I watched to the fountain-side of the yard and aimed at some thorns. Somewhere in this story there has got to be a rose.

So I'm going to conclude now to look for the rose and hopefully salvage the remainder of this evening. I hope you are okay with my transparency. If you are not, I will have failed twice this evening and then I will pitch the camera over the fence.

Again, if you have read this far, you are amazing and a loyal blip friend. Good night, well I guess I should just say "night" from Southern California--where the horrible terrible rainstorm never materialized, except at our dinner table.

Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol