
Michael came home tonight rejuvenated from playing racquetball, excited to see me, and eager to bring the In-and-Out he got with his racquetball partner for the two of us to eat tonight.
He knew that when he left to play racquetball, I had just started taking a nap.
He knew that when I take naps, I tend to be out for hours, that when I am wiped out, it takes me a long time to bounce back.
He knew that I wouldn’t really have the energy or the desire to make Spaghetti squash, the meal we had agreed on for the night.
He would tell me, an hour or so later, that he envisioned walking inside the apartment and finding me asleep in bed. I would wake up when he came in the room, realize I hadn’t started the spaghetti squash, and start apologizing—then, he would tell me that it was all okay and that he had dinner taken care of.
Michael did not know that although I was very wiped out, about an hour before I thought he would be home from racquetball I got out of bed, started the squash in the oven, and stayed up to clean and get some school work done. Continue reading




