Hot chocolate and cuddling under the stars sounded so romantic.
Then night hit. By the time 8 p.m. came around I was ready for sleep. I guess all the activity of the week has caught up with me by then and just overwhelms me.
As I put my book away and lay my head on the pillow I thought about my past-midnight date and hoped my husband would forget.
I woke up after midnight all on my own. My husband was sleeping soundly next to me. I touch him gently.
"Do you want to get up to watch the meteor shower?"
"We could do it tomorrow night," he says.
I know what that means. If I didn't get up at that moment it wouldn't happen. I was awake but the bed was so comfortable.
"I'm going to check," I tell him.
I was kind of feeling like I ought to watch it if God went to all that trouble
I put on the tea kettle and got out a Christmas mug. I put on Peter's snow boots. They're warm and fit me perfectly (he is quite short but he has long skinny feet for his age of 11). I find my warmest coat, a fur hat and scarf. I go back to the kitchen. The water is boiling. I pour it into the mug along with hot chocolate mix and marshmallows.
I stir then go outside.
The stars are beautiful. I'm cold, but I am not leaving. God is going to put on a show and the least I can do is watch it.
But I don't want do my watching standing up.
I look across the driveway and see the loveseat we took out of the house months ago. We had planned on burning it but right after bringing it out the drought set in and there was a burn ban. So it has been an eyesore for a long time.
I'm going to use it.
The dog and I sit on the loveseat, and my eyes are opened. I now see the wisdom of having comfy old furniture in the yard. It is perfect for nighttime star watching.
I sip my cocoa and watch the sky.
I see no meteor shower.
I finish my cocoa.
Still no shower.
The stars were pretty at least. And the cocoa was good. But it's time to go back inside.
I put the coat and boots away. I eat half a banana, then head back to bed.
My husband rolls over.
"Did you see anything?" he asks.
"No," I answer.
(Now he's wide awake and wants some loving. So, well, you can guess what happened.)
As I think back on it all I am thinking maybe all the people who claim to be rednecks know something I don't. If the couch outside is a good thing, what else could they be right on?