Monday, October 20, 2008


We, the hubs and I (sans the Soph), spent the weekend at Squaw Creek in the Tahoe are.

The Why? is Work, and I was delighted that my Sweetheart of Seven selected to join me. The mornings and the evenings were standing at a booth answering questions issued by the docs in attendance. The afternoons and nights were TeamRomo lounging, enjoying the resort, discovering a pizza joint blasting the Food Network, and ordering in ice cream with apple pie.

Perfection comes in pieces: a piece of my sweetheart, a piece of me, a piece of pizza, a piece of apple pie.

The last morning of the conference, I stumbled through our suite searching for shoes and a dress. Stumbled because I couldn’t see. The day’s beginnings peeked through the privacy curtains, allowing light enough for functionality. My own coherence made each step somewhat sure. As sure as can be when the world is blurry. Even with my prescription lenses in place, each forth person was bound to have a third eye.

Perhaps the lense is smudged? A lump slurred from puffy bedclothes.

Fretfully (for I fret when I my vision is compromised), I rinsed with the proffered saline solution. Clearer? A bit. Enough? Not hardly.

Leaving the spouse to slumber, I let my feet traverse the familiar path down to the conference room. Each forth person had a third eye.

After a bit, the he to my me, my Squaw Creek Savior, appeared downstairs, sporting his specs. He handed me a contact lenses case.

But . . . I mumbled, squinting.

Yours. He indicated.

And where are yours? My squinty self asked.

He pointed at my eyes.


Andrea said...

That is an AWESOME story! So something I can see happening!

cat+tadd=sam said...

Is that almost the same thing as going to pack my toothbrush one morning for a trip right after getting ready for the day and realizing my toothbrush is completely dry?