Jumpstart the day — stay off my nerves
It’s a beautiful, sunny Sunday — bright blue sky and warmth, a bonus fall day way more like summer.
Better Half and I are motoring along, on our way after church and our small group Bible study that’s always a great way to jumpstart the week.
We are on the road, cruising ahead in silence, not talking to each other.
Even better (just kidding).
It’s not that we’re mad or miffed at each other. We’re just not talking and OK with that and anticipating whatever the day will bring.
Then the silence is broken.
Better Half speaks out of that blue, sunny cloudless sky, it would seem, and on this bonus fall day that’s way more like summer, he says:
“OK, Janice,” his tone one familiar to me, a tone I can interpret in any number of ways, from “Listen up, I’m about to say something important” to “Don’t take this the wrong way, dearest, darling, gal of mine, but…”
Instead he says the unexpected, the unanticipated.
He says: “OK, Janice, let’s try to make this a good day. Let’s not get on each other’s nerves.”
He tapped the steering wheel for good measure, and I think we started going a little faster, too.
I started to laugh because I was so surprised by the observation/suggestion. A wife getting on her husband’s nerve or vice versa? Granted, not a good place to be, but preposterous!
Here I thought we were embarking on a good day and all, and here I was already realizing my faith and patience muscles probably were going to get an aerobics workout, Sunday day of rest or not.
I changed the conversation to the morning meal to come, thinking his cautionary tone was better left ignored, but I quickly realized the Breakfast of Champions conversation may not have been the best choice of diversion.
You see I thought I was doing a really good thing here, suggesting we move along this Sunday and have a little breakfast out — my treat because I had a handful of two-for-one coupons for breakfast food.
How very economical of me (or maybe a little cheap.)
If you can’t agree on liking one thing, you don’t want two of them, so herein lies the problem.
I reviewed our food choices.
Bacon, egg and cheese on a bagel.
Better Half doesn’t like bagels.
I wanted ham.
Sausage and egg on a biscuit.
Better Half is not a fan of biscuits, and I’m not big on sausage.
How about hot cakes and sausage?
French toast sounds better.
If only humans were as easy to please as animals when it comes to food, I’m thinking.
I can give a cup of Meow Mix every single day, twice a day, to “Herald the Cat,” and she purrs with conviction that I am the greatest, the best of food providers.
And I can throw flakes of hay and fill bowls with grain to make two horses so happy never once do they demand to see the chef to file a complaint.
We people are too darn picky.
So we did compromise, suffered order remorse and ate what was not the best breakfast we’ve ever eaten in or out.
And, truth be told, we did get a little bit on each other’s nerves.
But it sure was a pretty day.
(Kiaski, a resident of Richmond, is a staff columnist and the community editor for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.)