It was a weekday night, Doug had spent an extra forty-five minutes stuck in traffic for his daily commute, the kids were bouncing off the walls, and I, well, I was a desperate mother looking for freedom from childcare.
How could we make it through the rest of the night?
It was a make-it or break-it moment.
We looked at each other and made a pact: we decided to act like it was six o’clock on a Saturday morning, our favorite time of the week, instead of six o’clock on a Tuesday night.
It would only work if we did it together. Doug jumped in the shower, and I made a pot of coffee. Doug fixed breakfast for supper: scrambled eggs and thick cut bacon. We started to feel better already.
Sometimes starting over doesn’t require all of that, sometimes it just takes one of us saying, “I had a really bad attitude earlier. Will you forgive me?”