Sitting in front of the computer, I (blurry-eyed) wait for the thing to boot up and I'm amazed by all the messages that have amassed since yesterday. Then, I realize they're e-cards, and I remember, "Oh, yeah. It's my birthday."
It's my birthday but that's not the interesting thing I'm going to post about. Oh, and don't ask me my age. Suffice it to say, I still miss hip-huggers and bell-bottoms.
This past Saturday was the sixth meeting of CWOW (Christian Writers of the West). It's a fledgling little group of inspirational writers. It's a diverse group with everyone from multi-published to dabbling. Right now, it's very small. We only had six yesterday, but the six who attended really gained a lot of perspective about characterization.
Of the six, we have one man. He's fascinating and always adds to the discussion. Saturday, he added without meaning to.
Here's the scenario. I'm 30 minutes late for the chapter meeting of which I'm president. No, I'm not a late person. My son woke up with a rash. I made the doctor's appointment well in advance of the meeting, but the doctor took almost two hours to see us. Thus, I'm literally running from doctor to meeting. I come into the restaurant and sit down.
It says, "Center for Domestic Preparedness".
Now, see, my husband was at the doctor's with me. He and I both dealt with a two-year-old who got more than antsy after being in an examining room for almost two hours. Husband knew I had a meeting and was not running late but running past. Needless to say, soon there was tension not only between screaming two-year-old but also between non-screaming-but-very-much-wanting-to-scream Mommy and Daddy.
"Ralph," I asked casually. "Did you go to this center before you got married?"
Me, I'm thinking about sending my husband. Clearly he needed to be domestically prepared. I only wished I'd known about the center before we married.
Cathy spoke up, "Yeah, where is this center?"
Kimmy said, "I thought the hat was a joke."
Ralph said. "What are you ladies talking about?"
"Your hat," said I. "Is that place for husbands who want-"
"-and need help in the marriage relationship," finished Cathy.
Ralph shook his head sadly. "Uh, ladies... I'm in the Reserves. This is a military defense center."
Hmmmm. Well, one thing for sure. Sometimes this thing called love does feel like war. Luckily, in my home, there's always a happy ending, and when we wave our little white flag, there's a red heart in the middle of it.