The other day I was hot. And grouchy. I had been stuck in a stuffy car for an hour, wishing I was somewhere submerged in water instead. Then Benjamin, no doubt also overheated, since his first choice for clothing in July is usually a long sleeved flannel shirt buttoned all the way to the top and polyester church pants, started escalating toward a meltdown. Then there was an annoying phone call from a person with a thick accent hiding behind an Unavailable caller I.D. asking for John Oddner. I asked who this was. He was taken aback. He answered a first name, probably fake. Then he asked who I was. I was taken aback. I wanted to say something snappy. 

 

When the asked for John came home later, and was on the receiving end of my insolence, he tried to escape my wrath by doing dishes. Good ploy.

 

Then I thought of the popsicle delivery man. I was glad that when I arrived at the store to fetch them they were on the shelf where I could find them. It had no doubt been an ordeal to get them there in one hundred degree heat, but someone managed to do it.

 

It is easy to reel off kind words when we are drifting on a lake in an evening breeze. But can I say something sweet and cool on a sweltering afternoon when he wants, no make that needs it most?

 

"Welcome home, honey. Thanks for doing dishes. How was your day?" 

 

Photo by Chara Odhner

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