Every day's a gift - some are just wrapped better than others. A crisp, spring afternoon with a cloudless sky; rain that finally goes and snow that never comes - I feel like I have a fair-weather friend - me.
I feel like I have the Midas touch when my checkbook balances on my first try. I feel that way too when the jury summons isn't addressed to me and my mother-in-law's address isn't mine.
When I hold a newborn baby, I love its smell. I melt when its tiny hand clasps my finger. I feel overwhelmed by its innocence. Then I feel relieved I don't have to get up for 2am feedings.
When I was a child, I occasionally brushed off brushing my teeth and regretted it when I had to go to the dentist. All that's changed. Now there's fluoride in my drinking water and baking soda in my toothpaste. There are special bristles on my tooth brush and whitening strips on my teeth. Now when I leave the dentist's office and the receptionist says "See you soon", I don't get depressed.
When I leave the radiologist's office, I'm grateful to have three hundred and sixty-four days before my breasts have to be flattened in a vice again. I'm thankful for a clean bill of health even though the truth hurts.
It hurts to pay taxes, but I feel less taxed when they're done. Okay, my husband does the taxes - but he's much less taxing to live with when they're done.
Unfortunately, the work on my car is never done. Because it's a '69, it needs part transplants. This drives my husband crazy. Not me. As I get older, I identify more with my car. I'm inspired because it starts and I'm inspired because it's worth more.
I'm also inspired by Thanksgiving. On Thanksgiving I'm especially thankful if I don't have to cook. Of course, the turkey would be thankful if I wasn't the only vegetarian in the family.
A month later it's Christmas and I light up more than the tree at the mall when I finish my Christmas shopping. I light up when we go out to dinner too. Any dinner with candlelight, soft music and no dishes to wash is a little bit of heaven - until John gets the bill. Nothing's perfect. There are bills in heaven too - but they're all spelled with capital B's. |
