Christmas is just around the corner and my husband had to go on a business trip. Not wanting to be away from each other, I tagged along. It’s not the first time. I go with him as often as possible.
But this time has been… I’m not sure what the right word is. Interesting? Adventurous? I have no idea.
On the way here, we’re driving down the freeway minding our own business and it sounded like a canon went off. Apparently, a rock kicked back at us and shattered the door window. Scary, but nothing too big.
The next morning, I’m in the shower. We have a clock ticking and we’re due at the car rental place. I barely got wet before the shower-head fell on my foot and the water was a missile instead of a light spray. A sponge bath later, we were on our way.
I must admit I’m a little leary at this point.
Luckily, the day went by without any trouble. We had a wonderful time.
The next morning, I discovered the shower had been fixed. Life was good. I even managed to get some writing done. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Just a bit too soon. The couple in the room next to us aren’t getting along well. They aren’t the suffer in silence type either. For the last two hours they’ve argued. And argued. And argued.
It reminded me of when our kids were little. For the most part they got along well, but every now and then they’d bring drama into our normally peaceful house. I remember on more than one occasion, we discussed with our teenage hellcat that we didn’t care about fair or justice we simply wanted harmony. We considered it a prelude to what the kids would have to deal with when they were gainfully employed. I never had a job where there wasn’t at least one person on the team who annoyed the beegeebers out of me. Yet, I had to keep a civil tongue and manage my temper.
It worked well for the most part. I sure wish the people next door understood the value of harmony.