My Hard Cylinder Head Blew A Gasket
Posted on November 15, 2011
Occasionally, the compression in my cylinder will cause a leak to form in my gasket, resulting in severe damage to my sweet husband´s feelings.
In other words, I blow a gasket!
Lately this compression problem has been exacerbated by the over abundance of rain and/or gloomy cloud coverage engulfing my hard cylinder head.
Shorter days and longer nights compounded by Dream Baby travelling most of the week seemingly causes a great deal more stress on MY head gasket.
This is NOT what I moved to Norway for.
I am certain you have noticed the warning signs…..no blog posts, or what is posted was actually a repost from months ago…
You see… I have this feeling, deep within my creative engine, that if my thoughts are not funny or uplifting, they shouldn´t be blogged. But these murky thoughts have got to change because venting is cheaper than therapy
Besides what´s Goodness without the Grit?
Add parent/teacher conferences to my already insane `single parent´ schedule and a hiss comes out of my mouth followed by the knock, knock, knock of my foot on the floor as I await Sr´s return from his latest business trip. Seconds after the poor unsuspecting soul walks in the door, exhaust fumes and louder noises explode from my pipe.
And boy, was there steam this time…
It has been a VERY long time since my last
childlike temper tantrum episode blown gasket, and this time the message was evidently clear and to the point. Dream Baby said nothing. He simply walked up the stairs with his suitcase.
NOT his typical response!
Before I could mentally review the scene, which must have resembled the not so mature
pissed off grumpy baby pictured above, I hear him on the phone saying something about Rome not being warm enough. Better make it Barcelona. There were airlines mentioned and hotel discussions, then he hangs up. Before returning downstairs, I hear him on another call talking to his parents about babysitting.
This time I had really done it.
He returned downstairs; and to my relief, he was stripped of his sports coat, shoes and suitcase.
I waited for the explosion.
He opened a bottle of red, poured two glasses, and as he handed one to me, he quietly said,
`Babe, we are going to Barcelona in a week and a half.´
(our first kid-free vacation in many years)
Better than a catalytic converter, he had neutralized my hazardous exhaust before I could further pollute the atmosphere of our world.
Beginning to understand the name Dream Baby?
Got a similar unexpected response story?