Tonight, the
love of my life and I went out to dinner in a local
trendy cafe.
I was in a crotchety mood because of my stupid job and all he could talk about was E2 (which normally would be okay but I haven't had the time to get online lately, so it just made my mood worse). I was feeling sick, grumpy and just plain mean.
We then started dicussing the table of four middle-aged women near us. Which one was the 'Top Dog', the powerful one? Is it always the most glamourous one? I argued that it wasn't, he claimed that it was. I pulled the "I should know, I'm a woman, you're stupid as a result of being a male" card. He got stroppy. He gave me the silent treatment in response to my bitchiness and I dreaded the rest of the night. If I hadn't been so bloody hungry I would have left.
Things were going from bad to worse and we hadn't even ordered our meals yet.
Then a drop of water fell on the table from above. It wasn't a small drop, and it added to a not-inconsiderable puddle halfway between my hands and his. We both looked up at the ceiling and started to laugh.
It was a simple, seemingly inconsequential event, but we got the giggles, sharing our surprise. "You just don't expect that to happen here!" we whispered confidentially, snickering. My mood improved and he forgave me.
Things were cool, and the leaky ceiling saved our night.