"I love you" aren't the only three, little words in the language of love. There are others that say love just as clearly to me. Hearing "I'll do it", "I'll fix it" or "I'll make it" can turn any day into Valentine's Day for me.
Jay Leno can turn any night into a late night for me. When the alarm clock goes off the next morning, I hear myself saying three, little words, "It can't be" - but it is. As I crawl out of bed, I wish I could hang a "Do Not Disturb" sign around my neck. Because I mournfully realize I won't see my pillow again for at least seventeen hours, I promise to end my relationship with Jay.
Some days are so tightly planned they could explode if someone sneezed. When someone does sneeze, I pretend not to hear. When one of my sons groaned he didn't feel good, I silently groaned, "No, not today". If his temperature was one hundred, I'd try to convince myself he'd feel better after he showered and got dressed. When he sneezed again and the day started crumbling around me, I realized I didn't feel good either.
I'd feel terrific if I had a dollar for every time I said to my sons, "Say thank you". I'd have sent my seemingly ungrateful sons postcards from exotic countries, where I'd be saying thank you in various languages.
Instead, my boys were saying, "It wasn't me". In my house drinking glasses broke themselves, books got themselves lost and the dish obviously did run away with the spoon.
I wanted to run away when it was time for homework. My sons' homework was a succession of "Why's". The older they got, the more I said, "I don't know". By the time they were in middle school, I thought I should go back to school.
Maybe I'd know what to do if I listened to one of my neighbors. Maybe I'd know my dog was barking, my garage door was open and my grass needed watering. Sometimes I want to shout at her, "Get a life" - but not mine.
Thank goodness for my answering machine. It says three, little words for me - "Knight's not home". Often I am home, but I don't want to be bothered. The answering machine gives me time. You can't buy time, but you can buy an answering machine. |
