Compromise

 

After a little too much “Thump, Thump” from the parking lot last night, I finally went to sleep. I was then awakened by the ding on my phone with the bank telling me I wasn’t broke… yet. Getting up did a little manly maintenance then started my day. I thought about heading to the local state park, till I realized it’s the day before Easter and thought better of it. It’s not that I mind hearing little youngins hunting Easter eggs, as much as it’s the glare I get from the parents. All wondering what a old fat white guy is doing in the park all alone staring at their kids. I can’t say I blame them though, cause I would do the same thing.

Anywho, I’m sitting here at my desk enjoying the relative quiet of the morning. Watching my neighbors shuffling back and too from the apartment building next door. I just got through posting the last story I worked on, and my mind isn’t really in any headspace. Just letting the noise of the box fan absorb the clutter, allowing these words to flow through. But then I get a phone call from my son informing me he’s out of laundry detergent and of I would come by and bring him some. So much for silent reflections, but we made a deal and I delivered three laundry pods, and he filled the air in my tires.

It’s all about tradeoffs my friend, a thump, thump here, a laundry pod there. Not one should be allowed to take advantage of the other, unless you allow them. But sometimes that’s how it is with the people we love the most. The sacrifices we make, the love we give. I guess the thing is my parents never let me forget I owned them anything. In their boomer nice/nasty way they reminded me of who put clothes on my back and groceries in my belly. Listen I ain’t complaining…too much, it’s just the way it was. So instead of blowing up like a grumpy old man about his lawn. Life is often a compromise of wills.  

#NextGeneration #Stubbornness #Compromise #LettingGo #Sacrifice