My 13-year-old grandson and I sit in my van in front of his dance studio this past Thursday waiting for his teacher to arrive.
His lesson begins at 4 p.m. and -- miracle of miracles, as they sing in Fiddler on the Roof -- we're a tad early. Usually his teacher is at the studio before we arrive. The last couple of weeks, however, she has pulled up a minute or two after us.
Today, her van isn't in front of the studio. So we continue our discussion of Lord of the Flies, which he has just finished reading, and the fourth (?) Harry Potter book, which he is currently reading.
Periodically, I check the time on my cell phone.
"Do you think the class time was changed?" I ask around 4:11. Occasionally the 4 o'clock class is canceled, and he doesn't have to be there until 4:30. "Should we call your mom to see if your teacher called?"
Around 4:20 I call my daughter-in-law and explain that the teacher apparently hasn't arrived and had there been any message about the class time changing?
"Did you try the door?" she asks.
"Her van isn't here," I answer, motioning my grandson to go check the door.
Tactful person that she is, she doesn't come back with what I would have said to her husband or his brothers not so many years ago. Namely, "Is that what I asked? Did I ask if her van was there? Answer me! What did I ask?!"
[Truth to tell, however, she might have used the same teaching tactics I used to use if it were her son placing the call! :-) ]
Instead, she merely says maybe the teacher's son dropped her off at the studio and that perhaps we should try the door. Which my grandson does and which, of course, is unlocked and just waiting for him to pull on the handle.
Like . . . duh!
How many times do we assume a door is closed to us without ever even pulling on the handle? Worse, how much time do we spend sitting in front of doors we assume are closed, locked, barred to us . . . without ever pulling on the handle?
Like . . . duh!
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