Tell Me You Love Me

So here I am in beautiful downtown St. Louis for the National Association for the Gifted Child convention.

Don’t know what’s most enticing to me about the weekend:

  • the chance to learn about cutting-edge research and curriculum
  • the ability to network with others in similar positions
  • five hours alone in the car
  • four days without having to clean up anybody else’s stuff

So after an amazing opening session with the grown-up chess prodigy Josh Waitzkin of Searching for Bobby Fischer (read about that in my other blog, http://www.edsoapbox.worpress.com ) I took myself out to dinner.

There I sat in a middle-Eastern dive slash hookah bar. Don’t worry, I wasn’t hookahed up. Just contentedly drinking a glass of wine and reading my book, thank you very much, when a familiar sound struck me.

The phone! The phone! My phone was ringing! Who, oh, who could it be?

I pick up the phone, which displayed “Home.” Oh, goody. My children and husband have called to express how very much they miss me and love me.

“Hello?”

“WHAT DID YOU DO WITH SAM’S TRICK-OR-TREAT CANDY!?” (How ’bout “Hi, how are you honey?”)

“Um, that’s a good question. Is it in the laundry room cabinet?”

“Not unless it’s actually a bunch of white towels.”

“…ok…I have absolutely no idea where I would have put it…it couldn’t be in my closet, could it?”

(side note here. i have gnomes that take things of mine and hide them. particularly when things are stressful. they’re the same ones who made me almost drive away without my luggage this morning. they’re also the ones who put my debit card in the pocket of my other sweatshirt when i went to the grocery store. they also hid the cell phone in the hotel room when i went out to the conference earlier today. yes, i know who the gnomes really are, but for the love of all that’s right and good, don’t remind me.)

–by now, there’s nothing but an awkward pause on the phone. Pregnant almost, but I hardly use that word anymore lest i jinx myself.

“Honey, I’m sorry, but I honestly cannot imagine where I possibly put the candy. I’ll call you if I can remember.”

click.

Oh boy. I was torn. Part of me was mentally touring my morning, and the other part of me was incredibly irritated that my husband called me to bug me about something as trivial where I put the Halloween candy.

After about 10 minutes, a few sips of wine and a little distance, I realized that’s the fun of being needed.

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One Response to “Tell Me You Love Me”

  1. Mel_Edwards Says:

    Oh my! I don’t think I have your kind perspective on that one. Really, is missing candy worth an interruption at a conference? I know women who wonder why there are men in their lives when they can’t handle something that seems so basic.
    You’re a gem, girl.

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