It started out poorly on Friday ... grew progressively worse on Saturday ... Sunday landed with a splat ... and the whole affair ended with thud.
Everyone was in a bad mood and try as we collectively did to improve things ... nothing worked.
To radically alter everything I proposed ... er, I mean mandated ... that we go out to dinner at a favorite restaurant.
Everyone dressed up ... looked great ... and we drove into town ... to celebrate each other surviving the weekend ... only to have the worst waiter every hired.
To say "he sucked" doesn't begin to describe his demeanor, pushiness, avoidance of detail and complete lack of understanding of the concept of time.
He was handsome though.
Drinks and dinner eventually came and the setting was right for everyone to enjoy each other ... except we didn't.
Everyone took turns being mad about something ... there was a little yelling ... and at least one punch was thrown.
In the hour we were there, one went to the bathroom three times ... and though I didn't keep track ... she was likely in there longer than she sat at the table.
When dinner mercifully ended, we dropped the girls off at their Dad's house.
"Well that was terrible," Sarah sighs.
"Yep," I concur. "Thank God it's over."
We drive home in silence individually contemplating the existence of God.
Then a miracle happens!
Home alone, Sarah and I grab hold of each other and call upon the name of the Lord.
When we woke up ... everything's better.
