Shouting. Tears. Fine!

Who was Richard ‘Beebo’ Russell?  Why did this poor gent who decided to steal a plane, fly loops wildly, attract the attention a fighter jet to tail him in the anticipation that he might mimic Muhammad Atta-and-crew and fly the plane into some sort of human target?  An airline employee without a pilot’s license, how did have the wherewithal to not only steal the plane but learn how to do loop-dee-loops?  He apparently apologized, to all he knew and oddly revelled nonetheless in the thrill of doing precisely what he wanted to do for the waning minutes he had left before his orchestrated fate was sealed.  How strange?

The Mrs. bought beef that she suggested was from Australia.  She always wants to cook it far longer than necessary and it came out tough.  Complaining about the quality she updated us about the origin:  It was not Australian beef at all, but rather something that had that was from China and had as far as she was concerned been mislabeled.  She is always doubting the veracity of things she buys here.  I hinted that it might also have tasted better without cooking it for quite so long.

Later my wife got it into her head that she would make a change this fall.  She would insist upon limiting phone time for the girls at night.  Starting this Fall, after a certain time at night they will surrender their phones and we will hold them for the night.  In the morning they will be presented back to the kids.  I suggested that it was perhaps not the best idea. It was crisp in the abstract but we’d skirted this frontier before, and it was likely to be heated.  They’d want music at night.  I can understand that.  I would have too.  They would say they’d go to airplane mode.  And we’d vex on just how to monitor.  Did she really want to go-there, this evening?  She insisted.  I reluctantly joined along.

Shock.  Rejection.  Shouting.  Tears.  "Fine!"  The battle moves with stomping feet from the kitchen up to the bedrooms.  It wasn’t the conversation my wife had wanted.  But it wasn’t far from the one I’d expected.  Compromise then.  Accommodation and compromise because what I, for one, really want is steady, measured progress, in line with what we’d enjoyed the past month or so, rather than a sharp juncture.  A quiet chat before bed time to quiet all down.  Let’s start this year from a good place.  Shall we?  Loop-dee-loops before bed are too much turbulence for my taste. 

Saturday 8/11/18