Last night my husband and I went to a cocktail party. We haven’t been to a cocktail party in…well, I can’t remember the last time we went out to socialize. This party happened to be a yearly event through his work, but we hadn’t been in years. Having three kids in eleven months has a tendency to do that to you. Before you know it your communication skills have shriveled up like a houseplant begging for water.
Me to Bugaboo: “How’s school?”
“Fine. We were assigned a paper in English.”
“Have you started it?” I inquire.
“Yes,” he says, with no explaination.
“What have you done?”
“I picked the book,” he says showing me the title of a book I know he’s already read.
Not exactly stimulating. A friend who saw me at the party said to me today, “You looked like you were having a good time!”
And I realized that I felt like a dying plant that had finally been watered. And it felt wonderful.
I wonder if my houseplants would do as well with the red wine as I did. Maybe I’ll have to try that.