"I'm not used to you being impatient."
We're sitting in a portrait studio, waiting to choose pictures of dearest one in his graduation garb. There are 5 big photos of him in front of me. He is smiling with those rainbow arched wrinkles above his eyes. It's easy to pick my favourites.
If they took my picture right then there'd be a scowl and no doubt furrowed brows. No rainbow arches for me. More like a rut in the road wrinkle between my eyebrows.
I'm tired. I just want to go home. I'm feeling inflexible about taking a detour to pick the photos and the saleslady is taking forever to come help us. I'm not used to me having no patience either. And I'm too tired to care.
Just as I'm ready to walk out of the store she comes over and tries to sell us nearly 250 dollars worth of photos. Yeesh. I love this man. I love looking at these photos of him. But I seriously don't need a mirror like experience of looking at a photo everywhere I turn. We pick our photo package and I leave while dearest one pays the bill.
I have one stop to make. Well, I had three but I decided to cut two of them because I am feeling impatient as hell and I just want to go home. Dearest one has a stop as well. We're in separate vehicles and I fully expect him to be home before me.
It's a long drive home. About half way there dearest one passes me in his pick up. I reach for my cell phone and call him. I can see him ahead of me holding his cell phone to his ear. I make amends right then about being so impatient over an important decision to him. He's worked hard these past two years to work full time and get his degree. He'll have a few months off before he starts on the next level of education. It means job security for him to do this and I kind of like having a roof over my head. We chat and I say sorry and he tells me how he felt about my impatience. It's all good as we hang up our respective phones.
I think about step 10 as I drive home.
Soon dearest one is beyond my sight.
Tonight he'll be my rainbow
at the end of my furrowed road home.