Fishing -- Just Like the Lottery

This afternoon Greg called to see if Steve wanted to drive to Kerrville and go fishing tomorrow, Sunday. They stock trout in the rivers in Kerrville twice a year and Steve tries to make it down when they do. Steve's also really stressed out from over work and needs a break; some nature.

Steve asked if I wanted to go and I said no but that he should go. Then he said in a "please don't agree with me" voice;


"Did you want me to go and take Will so that you could have the day off?"


I almost fell to the floor and worshiped at his feet for simply having the guts to ask; when I knew he would prefer to go without taking Will. I did tell him that would be really nice.

Then I waited all night for him to call Greg back and tell him he was coming, and he never did. I asked him before bed if he was going and he said he wasn't sure. You can bet this answer would have been different if I'd told him to go without Will.

But the thing is that whether he goes or not, I've spent at least 5 hours tonight dreaming about what I would do on Sunday all by myself. Which pattern would I try out? Would it be the new toddler car seat cover I want to design? The baby sling? The new washable mop instructions?

Oh wait, maybe I won't sew at all. Maybe I'll clean off the dining room table and scrapbook all day. Oh yeah! That would be fun. I could put on some music. Open the windows for a cool breeze. Not get dressed all day; stay in my comfies.

And really, that was just the beginning. You wouldn't believe the things I've contemplated doing tomorrow. But as the hours passed and Steve didn't seem any closer to committing to the trip; I felt a little let down. Not bad, I understand that in his over-worked stress that Steve is not handling Will well. He hasn't been all week. He will hardly be home 20 minutes and he's over reacting to Will's desire for attention. Steve needs time off too.

But after Steve went to bed I began to realize that the "chance" that I could have tomorrow to myself was actually the same as the thrill I use to get when we played the lotto -- which I haven't done in a loooooong time.

But I remember what it felt like. How you'd mentally plan on what you were going to do with the funds if you won. I use to play just for those brief moments of happiness. I'd dream of who I could help out, where I could move, what kind of business I could start, helping my girls out, the new car I would buy.

So even if Steve and Will do not go fishing tomorrow, I appreciated the thought that they might today.