Nit Pick

A few weeks ago, my mother was in town. Before she came she suggested, "Why don't you two go out and spend the night in some bed and breakfast? Get a night away?"

"I couldn't," I told her.

But then I thought about what a rare gift this was:
Dan.
Me.
Sans children for a night.
It sounded good.

I called her back and accepted.

When the time came for Dan and I to leave for our night away, I was so excited. Dan had booked a night at the new Trump hotel in downtown Chicago and was taking me to his favorite sushi restaurant for dinner. Eeeek!

We weren't able to leave for our date until later in the afternoon. The day was filled with its usual busyness. When the time came to leave, we hoisted the suitcases into our Corolla and dashed down the road for a quick fill-up before we left. We were eager to reach the city before traffic got too backed up.

"Um, Dan? I can't find the gift certificate to the spa, " I said sheepishly. I really didn't want to stop our journey already. We were in "flee" mode.
But I married a patient man who didn't even "harumph" at the thought. We turned around and retrieved the gift certificate.

Okay, NOW we were off.

It had been a while since I had gotten away with Dan for a night.
And it had been a while since I had sat in our 11 year old Toyota Corolla.
It was loud and small and, well, perfect for the short trips to the train station Dan makes every morning. It had no radio and so it offered Dan and I an opportunity to talk and laugh, albeit loudly.

We arrived at the city in less than an hour which really impressed me for Friday night traffic. "There's the Trump!" Dan pointed to a tall, impressive building on the skyline.
I was starving and eager to check into the hotel.
We saw The Trump quite a bit that evening. From the south, from the north, from every whichway direction imaginable. The only part of the hotel we couldn't find was, well, the front door.

Grrr.

Recall earler comment about Dan's patience? Well, he married an opposite.

I could feel a hot impatience in my chest. He didn't get directions? The GPS on Dan's phone wasn't entirely clear. And if you're familiar with Chicago, then you know that some streets have upper and lower levels.

It was at this moment that I realized that I had to set the tone for my attitude for the weekend. The patience I fell in love with in Dan (the patience that enabled him to turn the car around and get the gift certificate I forgot to bring) was also the patience that allowed him to not be frazzled by the adventure of being lost for nearly an hour in the city.

I watched as we passed our hotel again and again.
I looked at my dear husband, cramping his tall frame into a too-small car and being totally non-plussed at our being lost in Chicago. It was probably at that moment that I softened, enjoyed the ride and let him take the lead.

From the moment I decided to stop being negative (in the name of "efficiency"), the air in the car became easier to breathe.
Dan and I laughed more.
I enjoyed the ride and the view.
And when we finally reached our destination, we were able to laugh when we saw that the price of parking our yabba-dabba-do car was almost more than the car was worth. "Hey, we don't do this everyday," my easy-going husband said.

We took out our luggage and stepped into a very nice hotel with very pretty things.
Clean things.
Happy people.
Lovely smells.
Warm eucalyptus towelettes upon our arrival. (You have got to try this.)
A pillow menu, of all things.

But what mattered most was the smile on my face, the smile on his face and the opportunity to rejuvenate with my favorite man on earth.

If I had continued to nitpick, I would have missed the view from our hotel room window.

More importantly, I would've missed the big picture.