The sand box that ruined my day

So I got called out to an emergency meeting about a giant sand box on the lake shore late yesterday afternoon, which made me late getting home, which made Chap mad, which of course, made me mad at his being mad.

The sand box itself wasn’t the emergency–it was finding out about the sand box before anyone else found out about the sand box, and getting the information about the sand box into the newspaper for all the folks who’ve been waiting breathlessly for news about the sand box.

I know what happens if someone finds out about the sand box before me–I get all kinds of hell rained down on me because my crack journalistic skills are lacking, and by gawd, the public has the right to know about the sand box.

After an hour in a meeting discussing the location of the proposed sand box, the quality of the sand and what kind of water feature should surround the sand box, I turned my phone back on and was greeted with, “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting! I didn’t move all the way out here in the middle of nowhere to sit and stare at the dogs!”

Hm. I suppose he moved all the way out here to stare at me?

“You could have called,” he said.

And he’s right. I should have called. I had no idea he wanted to know about the sand box, too.

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About kitfrazier

Award-winning novelist and former big city journalist who bumped into a cowboy and woke up in the wild, wild west.
This entry was posted in Confessions of an Accidental Cowgirl and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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