Of course, it's not always apple pie and warm fuzzies around Hobbit Cottage.
While searching for a tv show On Demand, a commercial for the movie, The Walk, came on. I squealed and told Tom, "Yippee! Let's finally watch that movie this weekend, ok? I'm still so sorry we didn't see it at the theater."
Tom replied, "We'll have to buy it, you know."
Me: (Air beginning to seep from my Happiness Balloon), "Won't it be available to just rent?"
Tom: "That's what I meant. It won't be free."
Me: "Of course it won't be free! I know that. Nothing is free anymore."
Tom: "Some things still are. But not On Demand movies."
Good grief. I wished, more than ever, that I'd gone to see The Walk at the theater. Yes, even alone. I'd been excited about it since seeing the previews, whereas Tom had been indifferent.
Anyway, a half-hour later, I told Tom I'd found an easier way to light the Dollar Tree candles (now softly burning) on our fireplace. He said, "I thought we were going to save the candles for emergencies. Why are you using them now?"
He'd alluded to this weeks before, so I was ready. "I happen to love candles, ok? I bought tons with my own money--they make me feel warmer and they're one of those, "What are you saving them for?," things. I am worth the price of candles, Thomas, and Life is too short not to use them, especially if they make me happy. And warm."
Poor Tom. He meekly agreed with all that.
Next, Naomi came home saying the price of the vitamins she and Tom were going to buy, skyrocketed. I asked if she'd looked at VitaCost and her nose got all wrinkly and she pretty much said, "I'd rather die than buy their old synthetic junk." (I'd forgotten that to Naomi, synthetic vitamins are the devil.)
We said more. Blah, blah, blah.
Well, then Tom and Naomi got out the Netflixed disc of Fargo, a tv series I'd rather munch on pottery than watch (and they know it), without asking me if I'd planned to watch anything else with Tom (it was only 6:30). So I got ready for bed. Went upstairs without kissing Tom good-night, even.
I'd had it with both of 'em. Myself, too, frankly. :)
And there in bed, I allowed myself to stay offended for 10 minutes (or so), then told myself, "Okay. Knock it off. Let it go."
Go allowing yourself to stay offended too long and Major Offense attaches himself to you. Then you spend months trying to shake his ugly self off.
So I remained firm with my head and kept pushing offense away each time it returned. Watched an Odd Couple episode, and fell asleep.
This morning I asked Tom if he'd noticed I went to bed without saying good-night. I watched him concentrating hard to remember, then he smiled and said, "Yeah, yeah. I noticed."
The big fibber.
And when I told him that I'd had enough of him and Naomi, we both laughed.
How good is a morning after you've let something go.
"Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense." ...Proverbs 19:11
“Offence is like muddy soil; when trapped underfoot, it resists rapid progress. Don't trap offences under your mind, else you resist change! Jesus said "Shake the soil off your sandals"! What are you waiting for? Shake it off!”
― Israelmore Ayivor,