"Are Sundays painful for y'all?" asked our friend Lauren's mom just a little while ago. We were enjoying a glorious evening while chatting on the stoop, and Jackie, a retired teacher herself, spoke with a knowing tone.
"They sure can be," I said. "In fact, when we left the doggie birthday party we were invited to at 4 this afternoon, I felt like I could barely drag myself home."
She nodded sympathetically.
"But then I asked Heidi if she wanted to go over to the high school pool and swim," I told her, "and even though neither one of us really wanted to? We did! And now I feel pretty good!"
"Well, good for you!" Jackie said. "That's a good way to survive."
"They sure can be," I said. "In fact, when we left the doggie birthday party we were invited to at 4 this afternoon, I felt like I could barely drag myself home."
She nodded sympathetically.
"But then I asked Heidi if she wanted to go over to the high school pool and swim," I told her, "and even though neither one of us really wanted to? We did! And now I feel pretty good!"
"Well, good for you!" Jackie said. "That's a good way to survive."
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