My favorite part of today, my happy moment, had to be walking Oliver. The sun was out, the sky was blue, it was too warm for my coat, and we didn't see a soul along the way. We walked (he ran) through the cemetery connected to our subdivision, and he got a lot of exercise greeting a dog behind its fence there. Oliver, who walks well without a leash, was completely, preciously obedient the whole way. I say "preciously" obedient because throughout the walk he kept looking back to make sure I was still there, that he hadn't run too far ahead of me. At one point we were in a field and he took one path around some tall, dry brush and I took the other. The paths converged in about 20 feet, and we would have remained within 15 feet of each other the whole way around, but he got nervous that we were on different paths. So he bounded through the brush to join me on my path. Such a sweet little friend!
Today is exactly why this "Happy Moment" discipline is beneficial. The day definitely did end with a mad moment, so it's good to put my mind on the happy part of the day. It was a stupid incident, made infuriating because T refuses to apologize.
Being in sales and his office being 50 minutes from the house, he tends to work from home a lot. By working at home, I don't mean he sets his computer up on the completely empty, large-sized, L-shaped computer desk we have upstairs, which is pleasantly situated in front of a picture window in our bedroom, with plenty of natural light but also equipped with two desk lamps. No, he doesn't set up there. And it doesn't mean he sets up on the dining room table, situated right next to the kitchen, within shouting range of his personal servant (me) in case his coffee needs to be rewarmed or his toes are cold and he needs his slippers. No, not there either. Working from home for T means he sets up right at the kitchen table, taking up a full 3/4 of the area of this large, six by four foot table with his laptop, its case and his oversize planner. This is the same kitchen table where L is trying to get her schoolwork done, even though being in sales means that talking on the phone is a big part of the job description. So we've talked about this before. He really needs to set up shop elsewhere in the house. But he doesn't.
So this afternoon when I got back from L's dance, he surprised me by being home early and had jumped back on the his computer to get some work done. The table was littered with the family laptop, chargers and various other bits of things that had floated over there during the course of the day, but a full half of the table was occupied by his computer and its case. (The planner had made a home elsewhere in that moment apparently, so only half the table was him at that moment, not the usual three-quarters.)
Now, today I had been a good girl. Even though I had just gone grocery shopping and the house was full of yummy things to grab and eat, I hadn't nibbled my way to full as I often do before dinner. I was hungry and anxious to get dinner on the table so I could eat what I should eat, rather than the snacks. I started making the tacos, which are quick and easy to put together, and asked him to please move so the table could be set. Nope, he wasn't going to do it. He was busy. I asked again in a few minutes because I was really almost done with dinner. And he started shouting about all the CRAP on the table, including YOUR LAPTOP, and I'M NOT MOVING MY STUFF UNTIL ALL THIS STUFF IS PUT AWAY BECAUSE I'M DOING WORK HERE!
Made my blood boil. First of all, my laptop stays on the table during dinner because it sits innocently in one corner and there are only four of us now. We don't use that corner during dinner anyway. I explain this to him. NO! I AM NOT MOVING MY STUFF UNTIL YOUR LAPTOP IS PUT AWAY. Jerk.
So I move my laptop 12 inches to the chair, pick up the couple other things on the table and finish dinner. After a minute he's feeling sheepish. He puts his stuff away, starts to sing and hum as if all's right with the world, gets plates out and asks if we're eating buffet off the island or if he should set them on the table. I answer him curtly, but no way, buddy. I'll be warm again when you apologize. But he wouldn't, so we had a chilly dinner and I headed upstairs right after I finished the dishes.
Big dummy. Go ahead and read your Bible. A lot of good it does if you can't apologize when you're a jerk.
So today I'm happy to remember my lovely walk with Oliver.
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