Boston. Not a big trip, or an unusual one, but it’s always nice to
visit a different Starbucks once in a while.
The word of the day at our house this morning was compromise–and it’s
a good one. We are all easing up on our need to have e rything exactly
the way we want it to be. Breakfast, for example, was not precisely
what Rory had in mind. Instead of a half bagel to go with her
strawberries, she coveted one of the rice krispie treats we made last
night, and who could blame her? Although the bagels were good, halved
and broiled with butter and cinnamon sugar and–like the RKT–devoid
of any nutritional vvalue beyond calories. But I have declared those
not for breakfast in the past. Ah, but there was one on the counter–
my breakfast, because sometimes Im a total hypocrit–and one in her
lunchbox and oh, it was hard not to get one– but she rolled with it.
No complaints. And do you know what happened then?
She got one.
I write a jut this because not only does it represent a big increase
in Mellow for her, but for me as well. For starters, I do not give RKT
to the undeserving. They are just too yummy. For secondly, it didn’t
bother me to "give in" to her. It wasn’t a big deal–and I still think
she’ll be able to take no for an answer next time. She still hears it
And the compromises continued. In the car, Rory preferred that Wy stop
talking to her–and he did. He sang a song instead. She didn’t like
that either–it’s a special song of hers–but she let it happen. She
just sang, herself, a different song. And I just let all that happen
instead of sticking my big far screaming self into the mix.
For us, this passes for major spiritual growth. Takin’ it.
sent from my iPhone