I was having a bad day. The kind of day where my goal was to stay off the evening news. The kind of day where I suggested to my mother that it might be helpful if she knew a bail bondsman. It was partially hormonally induced and partially due to the fact that I gave birth to two Spawns of Satan. It was a day full of children squabbling and whining. A day full of Juliana's drama and hysterics. A day when I discovered that I'd washed a piece of Kleenex with my laundry YET AGAIN. And the physical accompaniment to this day was a constant stabbing pain in my lower left side, the kind of pain you might have if, say, your left ovary was trying to burst right out of your body Alien-style.
As if to mock my mood, the day was beautiful, sunny, and dry. Ritu had to work all day, but at least the demons could play outside which had the distinct bonus of keeping them away from me. At 4:30, I was sitting out in the yard bitching to a couple of my neighbors when I saw it. Like a gleaming beacon coming from behind the holly tree, the pale luminescence caught the sunshine. The glint of white hit my eye and immediately my mood lifted. It was Ritu, home from work, bearing two Starbuck's cups. Bless that man, he had brought me a latte. Without my even requesting one, he had stopped for coffee because he thought it might cheer me up. It was such a small gesture, but such a kind one. I looked at him with love and said, "You...YOU will not die at my hands today."