On Friday, I asked David if he wanted to make out.
He said, suspiciously, "O. kay."
I told him I needed a reason to keep going.
That was three days ago, and now I need more reasons than ever.
Last night in the dark, we inventoried the past week. We only sat down to dinner together one night. I feel sick just thinking about it. Persistent heartburn. We spent the weekend near the border at medical staff retreat, which meant that David was in meetings all weekend, while the kids played, and I tried to attack my threatening to-do list. The hounds are at my heels, so I hauled my quilt and my starch and my computer and worked through the retreat. We returned home yesterday afternoon, in time for me to teach Sunday School. And then an hour later, David and I were both back at the church for other meetings, in separate rooms, while the kids rooted through the cupboards and fended for themselves.
I feel like the washer when all the wet towels end up on one side during the spin cycle and it bangs like the end of the world is coming.
But then, this morning I looked up wearily from the pancakes I was cooking and noticed this:
You have to look closely.
Just in case you missed it:
It is unbelievably, mercifully, blessedly blank. One day in an entire month. And it is today.
And just in time too.
I was this close to giving up entirely.
Instead, I'm feeling positively dogged this morning.
When I told David about my change of heart, he asked, "What does dogged mean?"
I said, "It's dog-ged. Two syllables."
I said, getting excited now, "The second syllable makes all the difference. It changes the word from 'being hunted or chased' to 'being persistent and determined and stubbornly not giving in'."
He's used to this. More information than he'd ever want to know about "dogged." Still confused about the line of logic I was following and clearly hoping for another make-out session, he said, "Well, you're definitely stubborn. I can see that."
Which only made me smile. I kissed him hard and sent him on his way. But not before reminding him to be sure to come home tonight. We have a free night. The "can't miss" event of the season.