Whine, With a Little Cheese

"Go ahead. Make my day."



I have had the crazy day from hell today.

But just when I was very busy feeling sorry for myself, my whole outlook on things changed.

I didn't really have the time, but I had promised Fourteen that I would take him to the hospital to see his friend - the one who had been hit by a car over the weekend. I stopped by Wally World to pick up a Skateboard Magazine, some chapstick and a card. I brought it all home, took it inside, looked longingly at my lonely sofa and sighed. I had promised. I grudgingly got BACK in the car and drove him up there.

It's five o'clock. I'm tired. I just want to sit down for a minute. Wah wah wah. I felt sorry for myself the whole way.

I limped into the hospital (I'd pulled a muscle in my calf at Six's "Fitness Club" on Monday - what a dork!) and we made our way to the Pediatric ICU. My son talked with the nurse on the phone and they admitted him through the double doors.

While I waited in the hallway, a lovely, tiny, soft-spoken young woman walked past. "Are you K's Mom?"

"Yes. . ." It turns out she was the friend's sister.

"They just took out his ventillator and moved him to a bigger room. He's been waiting all day to see your son!"

Right then and there I realized that my "inconvenience" had meant the world to that young man. My son's visit had probably really lifted his spirits. And I had almost talked myself out of going.

But that's life, isn't it? Sometimes the stuff that seems like a chore turns out to be the thing that we need the most.

I know his family is going through a really tough time, and they remain in our prayers. But I think I also owe them MY gratitude today - for helping me keep it in perspective.

Thanks, you made my day.