CONNECTIONS
I
t was Easter Sunday, and
I snapped. I knew exactly what I was doing,
when I was doing it, and how
wrong it was. As word vomit
goes though, I couldn’t stop.
My boyfriend, Spencer,
and I cooked a delicious bacon and pancake breakfast,
dragged ourselves to the
gym, and returned home to
shower up before visiting our
families. As per usual, my
“20 minutes to get ready” estimate was short by about 30
minutes, and we were running late. As I scurried past
the kitchen —meanwhile
Spencer’s scrolling through
Instagram in bed— I notice
pancake goop crusting atop
the stove, dishes piling past
the sink, and a nose-crinkling
odor that forced me to question why we ever thought
bacon was a good decision.
Anyway, I had incorliterally as I was yelling—the
rectly assumed Spencer
two year old inside me struck
would take on clean-up duty
since my hair was taking
longer than expected and
we were supposed to leave
15 minutes ago. There’s
a reason that saying about
assuming exists.
YOU KNOW SPENCER,
IT’S NOT THAT HARD TO
HELP OUT. LIKE SERIOUSLY? YOU DON’T DO
ANYTHING. THE KITCHEN’S A COMPLETE MESS,
AND YOU’VE BEEN IN BED
THE PAST 20 MINUTES ON
YOUR PHONE!
Like I said, I snapped. It
had been dead silent, and
in a matter of 20 seconds
my vocal chords were sore
from screaming at maximum
capacity. Every time I told
myself I was being ridiculous
and needed to calm down—
“
An apology
is said after
making an
error that you
would do
differently...
Being sorry is
apologizing
with deep
regret and
empathy...
”