In reviewing my schedule last week, I noticed one glaring omission. At
moment I was rather shocked at this lapse, however, I took some comfort in fact it was not intentional.The lapse in our week was a romantic evening just for two of us. Everyone knows a week without romance can be a dull week. As a general practice, Gracious Mistress of Parsonage and Yours Truly try to set aside some time, be it ever so small, for some level of romantic interlude. There are time, however, when due to a demanding schedule a week will slip through our mutual intention.
Immediately we set out to clear our schedule, a Herculean task to be sure, and set aside Thursday evening as our romantic hiatus at parsonage. Because I had a few days notice, I decided to surprise Gracious Mistress of Parsonage with her favorite ice cream cake.
Late Thursday afternoon I picked up ice cream cake specially decorated for occasion. I was looking forward to a special, relaxing evening at parsonage.
Just as I drove out of bakery parking lot, my cell phone rang. My wife informed me that Philip had been rushed to hospital emergency room, she had no further details. I looked at my watch and calculated that it would take 15 minutes to drive to hospital, 10 minutes with Philip and another 15 minutes to return home. It was 4:45 and I could be home before 6:00.
Hanging up phone, I turned my car toward hospital. Driving out of parking lot, I had a nagging feeling I was forgetting something. I mentally reviewed my “to-do-list” and could not find a single omission. And yet, there was something I should be doing but for life of me, I could not put my finger on it. Pulling into hospital parking lot, I put that nagging thought out of my head and focused on more important work lying before me.
When I got to hospital, I went straight to ER and inquired about Philip.
“Yes, Philip,” nurse quipped, “is in room 15.”
Knowing drill, I went to room 15 and to my dismay, it was empty.
“Oh, Philip,” another nurse said “has been sent up to room 318.”
I threw a “thank you, ma’m” at her and headed for elevator.
By this time, I was so occupied with thoughts about Philip I temporarily forgot about our plans for evening back at parsonage. I walked into room 318 and discovered that either Philip had a sex-change operation or, person snuggled down in bed in room 318 was not Philip. I latched on to second thought and headed for nurse’s station.
