Two Sides to Every Story

Her Side of the Story

I do worrywart really well. I returned home earlier this evening from a lovely day with my mom in New York City, where we celebrated my birthday with a nostalgic lunch at Junior’s and a Broadway show, The Farnsworth Invention.

As I turned into the driveway, I noticed all the lights on in the house, lights on in the garage, but no car. I went inside – my husband had set the alarm – and everything was in disarray. The TV was on, the newly bought Christmas tree was lying on the floor. I tried calling my husband’s cell phone, but it rang inside the house. He didn’t take it with him.

I got very nervous, very fast. I was shaking and had trouble thinking straight. Hell, I was even looking on the floor for signs of blood! I was terrified that something had happened to one of the girls. After a minute or two of absorbing the scene, I gathered my wits about me and found the phone number for the emergency room of the local hospital.

I was panicking, my hands were shaking, and I dialed the number. I explained the situation and asked if my family was there. Good news was that they weren’t. Bad news was that I had no idea where they were. Then I started thinking that everything just had to be ok. It just had to be ok.

To pass the time, I started folding laundry. It was the worst job of folding that I’ve ever done (and I truly suck at folding laundry). I watched every car that drove by. Finally, our minivan turned into the driveway.

His Side of the Story

It had been a somewhat hectic afternoon for Papa. They brought up all the Christmas ornaments from the basement. He then went with the girls to buy a tree. Found one he liked, but the place only took cash, so he had to find an ATM. Which he did, of course. Brought the tree home. Got it into the house. Tried to put it on the tree base.

But the tree base was broken. He tried to fix it (looked for tools in the garage, which explains why the lights in the garage were on when I returned), but the tree toppled over.

He interrupted the girls’ TV time to drag them to find a new tree base. They went to Bed, Bath & Beyond. No luck. Sold out. Tried Target. No luck. They’re sold out. Even took the time to indulge Chloe and quickly visited Game Stop, so that she could check out the Game Boy games.

A very long 45 minutes after I arrived home, he pulled into the driveway with the girls. I burst into tears of relief, but I was also pretty angry. He left the lights and TV on, because “it was just a quick errand.” This coming from the French boy, who has always berated me for wasting electricity by leaving lights on in the house. He thought my reaction was completely disproportionate, I think. To him, it was no big deal. He hadn’t been gone for long.

What a way to end the birthday weekend! Thankfully, my brood is healthy and happy. Off to Florida tomorrow. We’ll see what trouble they get into while I’m gone…Ugh!

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