By Tracy Kirby
Image by Crista Ballard Photography
I’ve always thought it quite odd whenever I have heard someone say “If only I could be a fly on the wall …” This particular turn of phrase usually means the speaker wants to covertly eavesdrop on an event or conversation by becoming a fly. But, I’m always wondering; Why would you want to be a fly? Why not some other small, more cleanly, less-demonic creature? I hate flies. I find them to be useless, disgusting, vexing creatures. And so it comes as ironic that I learned a valuable life lesson via a poor fly a few weeks ago.
It all began when my husband sweetly asked months in advance if it would work for our schedule if he took a much-deserved four-day trip away. With naive enthusiasm and what would turn out to be false confidence in my heart, I flippantly said “Of course!”
As the four-day trip approached－as with most things on my calendar and basically tasks and events in general －I completely forgot about it. So it came as a shock when two days before, my husband gently reminded me. I gave him a blank stare. What trip? I vaguely remembered something about him going away, but that must have been a joke, right? Ok, husband, you got me! Big “LOL”! But as I quickly checked my calendar there it was: “Jon Away” with the menacing all-day banner spanning Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Uh-oh. Who agreed to this, again?
I feel like I should pause here and say, I am an independent woman, gosh darnit! I know I can care for my children AND not burn the house down for a long weekend. But for some reason, four days suddenly felt incredibly daunting. Nonetheless, I set out planning what I hoped would be one grand adventure for our four-day time together. On the first day, we went to an idyllic apple orchard, we baked, we napped, both the kids and I were filled with glee and I felt like, Boy, oh Boy, I am an amazing mother.
And just like anything else in life, pride truly does cometh before the fall.
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