Mute

"It is better to dwell in a corner of the housetop, than with a brawling woman in a wide house."

How many times have you looked compassionately into the face of someone longing for such a quiet corner to go off to, wishing you could show them one and join them there? I've been her and she's not a pleasant companion, that proverbial woman. If you've been on the receiving end of my crabbiness or worse yet, my overly loud annoying side (calamitous is in there too), perhaps you illogically glanced about for a magical mute button that would instantly silence the irritation and restore the peace. Truly I pity you. Watched a home video awhile back when I was being her and wanted to erase it. But I kept the file because the constant bettering of myself is facilitated by such unsavory discoveries. Thus, I am sweetened.

Lately I've been the illogically searching soul, but narry a mute button in sight. Without naming names, some of the people I spend a lot of time with tend towards...picking at things, tiny insignificant bits of behavior and speech and attitude that not only won't matter tomorrow but even an hour or minute from now. The "enough already" red light on the top of my head starts flashing and my eyes bulge but somehow I usually manage not to add yet more strife to already stuffy air. The heat does not help.

Throughout my typing of this post, my son's been hovering over my feet poking his glasses rimmed nose into my business and incessantly discovering new noises to make so my "Don't do that" must be reapplied to something else. My baby meanwhile stomps and bangs on the floor in rhythm until I retrieve her. Both seem determined to revive all who dare nap when they do not. I gave up on naps months ago - what are they, anyway? Maybe I could invent the mute button and make more money than Oprah. No good though as nearly all marital communications would cease, moms wouldn't hear their babies' hunger cries, violin teachers would become ineffective, and mass murders would occur over who controlled the things in households that could only afford one.

Someday, and soon, my three kids will grow up and leave and at some point, while running gnarled fingers across this year's pictures, I'll wish for a chance to turn the volume back up.

Blessings, V