A Road Paved With Good Intentions

A road exists heading somewhere that was paved with good intentions. Well, I have been on that road myself a few times. The most recent of which I saw this wonderful commercial for a steam jet jewelry cleaner. Noticing that it was really no different than my espresso machine, I decided to save a few dollars and clean my jewelry with the espresso steam jet. This was a frugal and brilliant idea.

So, I’m standing in the kitchen cleaning my jewelry and telling my family that I had a very hard time writing that week probably due to the Nyquil I had taken for my cold. It would seem the chemicals in the cold medicine had silenced the voices in my head. Now rather than choosing to understand a perfectly good description of a problem with a writing muse, they decided to claim I was a lunatic mother with a multiple personality disorder.

It didn’t help that I was standing there cleaning my rings with an espresso machine. So much for good intentions.

Not wanting to be the proverbial party pooper, I shoved all my invisible friends out of the way, and sent the family off to work and school, while warning my husband not to choke on my necklace that could be floating in his coffee.

Later that week, and many clever remarks later, I had the wonderful chance to drive my son to Lafayette to watch his LA Tech-ULL Rugby game. Having to split up to attend multiple events, I was alone with my eldest while my husband went with the others. It was an absolutely beautiful spring day and I sat on my blanket in the grass, soaking up the sun and watching my boy play the sport he loved.

Probably worrying about his mom sitting all by herself, at halftime he trotted up to my blanket to check on me. I told him I was having a perfectly wonderful time. That all my invisible friends were sitting on the blanket with me, keeping me excellent company, and one was explaining the game to me. Although another kept hogging the blanket, I just had to shove her off every once in awhile and reclaim my space. I smiled serenely at him, and told him not to worry about me being lonely, that is one advantage of always traveling in groups. He gave me a long, dubious stare, shook his head, and trotted back to his team. I shoved Lulubelle off the blanket one more time, reclined in the grass, and continued to enjoy the breezy, fresh spring day, and a free sporting event. Definitely better than Monday night football.

When the game was over we headed home, and met up with my husband and other kids at Griff’s for a burger. As we are all sitting together eating, we notice a scruffy looking vagrant sitting at a table nearby having a deep and involved conversation with the man sitting across the table from him. The problem was, that no one was sitting at the table across from him.

As the kids were snickering and asking me about my like-minded friend across the room, my husband got up from our table and went up to the counter. Being the kind and generous soul that I married, we all watched as he bought a burger, fries and a drink and placed it in front of the scruffy vagrant with a smile and pat on the back.

Upon returning to our table, we all looked at the vagrant who grabbed the burger and hollered at his invisible companion to keep his hands off it. They then began a heated argument and the language got louder and a bit more colorful.

Thinking it prudent that we get out of there before the fight between the two got violent, we gathered our stuff and left. Seriously deflated, my husband kept shaking his head, disappointed his compassionate gesture had turned out so poorly. Smothering my laughter, I told him that as the resident expert on invisible friends, it should have been pretty obvious that he brought only one meal to two people. They were bound to fight over who got to eat it.

Giving his hand a squeeze, I told him that he had really tried to do something kind. But, then, wasn’t there a road somewhere that was paved with good intentions?
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