Good Again

Good Again

“You’re making a mistake.”

The voice came over my shoulder, scaring the bahoosies out of me. I jumped, knocking over my chair, and bumping into my desk. Unfortunately, of course, hard enough to knock over my coffee which promptly spilled all over the floor. Turning around, there was John.

“What,” I said in a voice that only comes out when I’m totally frustrated.

“Sorry. I’ll help clean that up,” he said in the calm infuriating way he gets when he thinks he knows best.

He doesn’t always know best! Having been married to him for years I happen to know that. Sometimes I actually know what I’m doing, and he doesn’t! Unfortunately, this was not that kind of situation. I’d been struggling since I sat down. Consequently, I was already angry!

Angry at not being able to figure it out, angry I jumped, angry that I spilled my coffee all over the floor. But mostly angry at his smug know it all face!

I reached for the cup, and said, “I’ve got this!” And stomped away for the mop. Yes, I’m stubborn. He knows that too. He left.

Ten minutes later, mess cleared, back at the desk, hating every minute. Still not understanding the stupid, idiotic directions, but determined. Suddenly, a chocolate bar slid in front of me.

I looked at it knowing exactly where it came from and why, and I gave in. “I can’t figure this out…” I said, defeated.

“It’s complicated, I only know how because I had to do it in college,” he said.

A lie, but he lied to make me feel better. We both knew I was terrible at directions, especially financial directions.

“Will you do it?” I asked, in my most ‘I’m sorry’ voice.

He smiled. And life was good again.