Thursday, September 3, 2009

Traffic

            Before I got off work Michelle called and said, “Pick up some good chocolate.”
            Yes, it was one of those days, and I was more than happy to do as told. I stopped by and not only bought some extra nice chocolate, I picked up a decent bottle of port for after dinner. I had the whole evening worked out. I’d go straight home, give her the chocolate, then take her to the gym to exercise while I hung out with the baby and looked at rain jackets (I’m going to need one for a sailing trip this weekend). I was particularly looking forward to hanging out with the baby. It’d been a long and tiring day, and something about her unblemished charm was beckoning me.
            Then, I turned onto the highway only to discover… a parking lot. Nobody moving even an inch. I quickly turned on the traffic radio station only to have my fears affirmed—a huge cement truck blocking the bridge. I wasn’t going to arrive home anytime soon.
            So, I called Michelle and broke her the bad news as I drove through some local roads to see if a closer on-ramp would be better. No luck.
            “I guess I’ll see you in a few hours,” I said to her.
            She took a deep breath and said, “Okay.”
            We chatted for a bit, then she had to deal with the baby so we hung up. I drove through local roads to the mall and did some rain jacket shopping, then to another store for a return. I kept checking in on the traffic, but it continued to sound ugly till two hours later.
            By the time I arrived home, the baby was already in her crib. And I couldn’t stand it. I so wanted to see her that, even though she was just starting to wind down, I went in to say goodnight.
            As soon as I entered the room she started to scream. “Get me out of here! I want to see my Dad!” At least, that’s what I imagined her screams were saying.
            Michelle said, “Oh, just take her out. Spend some time with her. She’ll probably sleep better anyway.”
            Believe it or not, it really made my day to be able to spend a little time with her, even if just to read a book and look at her for a bit. She instantly stopped crying when I pulled her out of the crib, and when I did later put her down to bed, she only fussed for a couple of minutes.
            And I didn’t hardly fuss at all.

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