It was a fairly uneventful day. Week two of my convalescence. I had a prince charming of a husband taking care of my every need. Except I was tired of lugging my heavy "ski boot" around the house. In my chair. In the bathroom. In bed, no less. Try putting one ski boot on and take a nap sometime with that brick of a ski boot on. It's challenging! I was tired of reading. Tired of cruising FaceBook. I didn't want to watch a movie. I just wanted to do things for myself!
In walks--or should I say--thumps-- Mrs. Grumpy Skirt.
Jim asks, "Honey, would you like something to drink?"
"No, thank you," she sighs. "Well, OK. How about we have something sweet to eat?"
"We have the sugar free vanilla ice-cream and I could put some hot fudge on top."
"Oh, yes. That sounds good. Put lots of nuts on it."
Minutes later, Jim with great flourish, places a lovely navy-blue-with-Japanese-script-on-the-sides sauce bowl in my hands. It was cool on the bottom of the bowl and I could smell the warm, sweet, chocolaty syrup melting nicely on the cream. And on top, what was there, but peanuts. "I hate peanuts on my ice cream!" I whined.
"I had no idea you didn't like peanuts on your ice cream," Jim said in a reasonable voice. "I'll take them off. What kind of nuts would you like?"
"Walnuts." I, er Mrs. Grumpy Skirt, said.
"Coming right up." I heard a slightly less cheerful voice say. Muttering under his breath I heard, "I had no idea she didn't like peanuts with ice cream!"
Soon, the bowl came back into my lap, the ice cream a little more melted, and on top, a large splay of chopped walnuts. "Thank-you." Mrs. Grumpy Skirt said, her voice a little less petulant, humbled by her husband's loving spirit. "Are you coming to sit down and eat with me?"
"In just a minute." The great room is draped in darkness as he turns out the kitchen lights.
"Are we going to eat in the dark?" Mrs. Grumpy Skirt wheedled.
"Just give me a minute to come over here and turn the lamp on. I just didn't want the gymnasium lights on for our dessert." His voice, less patient sounding.
All of a sudden, I came out of my Mrs. Grumpy Skirt mode and realized what a sweet, charming, husband I had. Who was only trying to make my confinement more pleasant. A dessert less calorie laden (with walnuts) and soft lights and I was complaining! I wish I could say it never happened. That Mrs. Grumpy Skirt never appears in a nearly perfect marriage. That I'm always sweet and accepting of my situation, but I'd not be honest.
Mrs. Grumpy Skirt may not care about short accounts. But I do. "Honey. I'm sorry I'm so grumpy. I don't even know why I am! Will you forgive me?"
"Of course I forgive you. I'm sorry you have to be laid up like this." He leans over to kiss me. "How's your ice cream?"
Such a simple act of loving forgiveness. Saying you're sorry and then the other accepting your shortcomings. We are told to do just that, Sometimes it's easier than other times......
Be kind.....to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Follow God's example, therefore as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love.....
(Ephesians 4:32- 5:2)
It sounds really simple, but it is true. Try it.
Note: If you've not met Mrs. Grumpy Skirt, check her out....http://myredleatherjacket.blogspot.com/2012/08/mrs-grumpy-skirt.html
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| My "ski boot". It really is big! |
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