Even though dance starts a bit later than school does during the week, Saturday morning is still pretty chaotic around here. Moreso if John is leaving for an auction that day, because it means I have to truck Kristyn and Alex with me and get them ready too. There are buns to be done, bodysuits to find, tights to mend (because they're always ripped somewhere) and a good breakfast to be had.
This is one of those mornings where John was rushing to leave too. His work van has been giving him some problems, so he was nervous about travelling with it (not to mention what it's costing us to fix it). He couldn't find his cell and even though he had woken up in a general good mood, I could see it going downhill from there.
He called from about 15 km away saying he had forgotten to leave something in the mailbox for a customer. It was in his truck and could I meet him to retrieve it?
The answer was a no. The girls were now late for dance and a costume fitting. I had made a commitment to help out and I couldn't/wouldn't back out. Countless times I've found myself away from home, having forgotten something and been told that I would have to work it out.
I told him to meet me halfway, in town, at the studio. He huffed, said fine and hung up on me. We arrived at the same time, but he couldn't see my truck as I was parked in the back. He called me and yelled in my ear, asking where I was. He was acting extremely childish and he knew it, but I think he got to that point where you know you're being ridiculous and you may as well just go for it. (A place I know very well.)
I met him at the front of the studio, hand outstretched, lips pursed and silent. He shoved the item into my hand, told me where to put it (no, not there, the mailbox!) and huffed off. He didn't say goodbye. He didn't say thank you. He didn't look back to see me discreetly flip him off.
Most of the morning here was spent stewing and cursing his name. I cleaned the house, drove back to the dance studio three more time to pick up/drop off again and made lunch. It's 3:00pm now and I'm going to call him. Even though he acted like a baby this morning, I miss him. It's a gorgeous day and if he's close to home, we might go for a drive into Perth. Maybe get chinese food.
Eight or ten years ago, I would have met him outside the studio and charged at him in fury. I would have caused a scene so full of righteous indignation the entire ordeal would be blown up more than it should. I would have spent days answering him curtly or just plain ignoring him. He would have to make it up to me. I would be so proud of the fact that I was in the right this time that I would act like an asshole just to prove a point. I like being thirty-one and a lot more mature. Cause I know he behaved a certain way and he's probably sorry. Rubbing it in or acting hurt isn't going to make any difference. I'm so over it now and just want to enjoy our day.
This is much better.