Peter could not remember how to do the simplest of jobs, he was grumpy because I was “telling him what to do,” and I was grumpier because I had to repeat myself endlessly. Meanwhile nothing got done.
Besides, it was an ugly windy day, completely unlike what the weather forecaster predicted.
Late in the afternoon, Peter came to me and asked, “Is there anything else I can do wrong?”
He had a plaintive smile, and of course I melted. “I’m sorry I’ve been so grouchy,” I said.
“No, you haven’t, don’t even say that,” he said. He wrapped me in one of his increasingly rare hugs.
“But you didn’t do anything ‘wrong,'” I said, “you just didn’t do anything.” He loves it when I jab him.
He laughed and danced around the kitchen like an elf. “Ya got me!” he said, and everything was alright again.