The Earring

Book 3 Part 6

In our lofty retreat, God had reminded us of the importance of humor. The only movies available were comedies. On the bookshelves we found nothing but tomes of jokes or witty volumes by the likes of Erma Bombeck. After the tears and true confessions, we laughed as we watched a comedy about a wacky race with a gumball machine as the prize. While David grilled steaks, I thumbed through a book by Bombeck. One phrase caught my eye: " If you can't make it better, you can laugh at it."

"I like that," I thought. "Maybe this lady has something."

After reading a few pages, I was chuckling over her take on everyday life. Taking the book outside, I said to David, "Listen to this. 'My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.' This is my kind of gal."

I had two cross-stitched sayings hanging in my kitchen. I made my own patterns and then hand stitched them. One said, "Cleanliness is next to impossible." Josh and Zach's tiny inked fingerprints adorned it, along with our dog's paw print. The other read, "The only thing domestic about me is I sleep in a house."

Reading Erma stirred the dormant journalistic bug in me. When we got home, I saw an ad in a local paper. They were looking for someone to write the society page. I couldn't imagine anything more boring than writing about weddings, funerals, clubs, and kid's birthdays. I could visualize writing a column about life, though.

While the boys were napping, I took out a piece of paper and started writing. I gave the result to David to critique.

"This is good, Syd," he said. "Better than that Bombeck lady."

That's what I loved about David. He knew how to encourage me, even if he exaggerated a bit.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Well, there's an ad in the paper for a society page writer. I thought I might send it to the editor."

"A society page writer," he hooted, before falling to the floor in a fit of laughter. When he could breathe again, he added, "Syd, the tabloid domestic goddess. Come on, get real."

"If I got my foot in the door, maybe I could do something more challenging after a while," I explained defensively.

"You wouldn't last a month," he said. "You would die of boredom. Doesn't the society page include recipes? I guess you could tell them how to spice up Kraft macaroni and cheese. And do you even know what tulle is? I think a wedding reporter might need to know."

"I can do research, David. I learned how to do that in college."

"And you were good at it, Syd. I'm sure you could learn all you need to know, but knowledge can't combat dissatisfaction. Believe me, I know. I had all the knowledge I needed to teach high school, but data didn't make the job palatable. Besides, let's be practical. You're the mother of two small boys. What are you going to do with them? I doubt the editor will allow you to bring them to work."

I hated having my dreams overwhelmed by reality.

"Well..." I had no ready answers.

Fortunately David redeemed himself with visionary possibilities that had the potential to turn reality into fulfilled dreams.

"Perhaps you can make him an offer he can't refuse," he said, borrowing the popular phrase from The Godfather. "Wow him with your writing. When he tells you how incredible you are, present your alternative."

"And what alternative is that?"

"Job sharing."

"Job sharing? That's your big idea?"