You can be pitiful or powerful, or in the case of Libby, maybe both!
She scowled, "Yesterday he golfed with the guys. Today it's football on the television. Tomorrow? What will it be tomorrow?"
She slammed the door to the kitchen cabinet, and tossed the utensils into the drawer.
Her husband heard the crashing and banging, and turned the volume up on the remote, leaning back in his recliner.
Libby's thoughts captured the essence of her pain, as love was no longer in the air, or so she thought.
Oh, how she longed for hubby to pay more attention to her.
When a woman is in pain, she wants everyone inside the house to know she is hurting.
Libby's household duties took on new meaning as she added volume to each chore, and items landed in closets, drawers and cabinets with added force.
At one point, she plugged in the vacuum cleaner, pushed the unit past her husband just as he let out a "hoot and a holler" when his team scored a touchdown.
Libby sulked, and ran to the bathroom crying, her tantrum in full gear.
After sitting on the floor, sobbing for some twenty minutes non stop, and missed by no one - she surfaced.
She looked at her mascara streaked face and the swollen eyes. Libby was a mess.
Sighing, she wiped the tears, took a wet cloth to her puffy lids and decided the pity party wasn't working after all.
Planning her entrance or re entrance into the den - she walked, shoulders slumped, using a slow gait, shuffling her feet.
She sat down on the sofa across from her husband's recliner and whimpered, gulping and sighing in between sobs.
Soon, he noticed and asked, "Honey, is there something wrong?"
She whispered, responding in a low constant tone, "No, no.... nothing is wrong. I'm fine. Really, I am."
"Are you sure? You seem upset."
"I'm fine." She answered, wiping her brow.
"Then, would you mind getting me a glass of tea?"
Reluctantly, Libby carried tea to her husband. Well, the pity party was back!
She felt worse than ever. He had no idea she was even upset, not one little clue!
Then it happened, she stumbled on the vacuum cleaner hose, the very one she'd left out earlier when she disappeared to cry.
Loosing her grip, the glass slipped and the drink poured into her husband lap, as ice cubes and tea splashed everywhere.
He jumped from his chair, yelling.
Suddenly she laughed, chuckling at the sight of her husband's wet pants. She covered up her widening grin.
Hubby piped in with, "We have got to work on cleaning up this house so you won't be falling over things so much. And we can do it right after the game!"
As he walked to the bedroom to change clothes, Libby could only shake her head and smile.
It's important to remember that when you laugh the whole world laughs with you, and when you cry all you get is wet, or in the case of Libby it could mean, "your hubby gets all wet?"
Fortunately, she realized laughing was medicine for her heart and soul, and the man she silently accused of not loving her, well, he was simply enjoying his day.
Precious hours wasted, yet humor provided a tool for finding strength in the midst of inner turmoil.
And that's when pity gave way to power...well, especially after Libby decided to hide the remote control!
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