As was usually the case, Frank and Gloria were unsure what had started this particular argument. Gloria's contention was that it had begun when Frank had refused to go to the family reunion with her. For his part, Frank was fairly certain it had begun nineteen years earlier, when he said, "I do." Whatever the cause, however, the fiery exchange of words on Saturday by Sunday evening had chilled to an icy silence.
Frank had been enjoying the change of pace considerably. Usually he needed to pick up the newspaper when he wanted a moment's peace, but for the last twenty-four hours he had experienced unprecedented bliss.
It was, unfortunately, not to last. Gloria had a business trip to Chicago that week, and she would have to wake by 6 a.m. to make it to the airport in time. As the only working alarm in the house was by his bed, he found a note waiting for him when he went to turn in for the night. "Frank, please wake me at six for my trip." He burned with anger when he read the note -- but only for a moment, until he realized the burning was the burrito he had made himself for dinner. Not one to back down from a fight, she had left it to him -- him -- to break the silence and speak first. As if he should have gone to the reunion just because it was his family!
He stewed for a moment, wondering if he should wake her with a pitcher of cold water in the morning, or if he should rouse her from bed with a sack of boiled potatoes instead. But at last he resolved to settle the matter maturely, and went to sleep.
It was, unfortunately, not to last. Gloria had a business trip to Chicago that week, and she would have to wake by 6 a.m. to make it to the airport in time. As the only working alarm in the house was by his bed, he found a note waiting for him when he went to turn in for the night. "Frank, please wake me at six for my trip." He burned with anger when he read the note -- but only for a moment, until he realized the burning was the burrito he had made himself for dinner. Not one to back down from a fight, she had left it to him -- him -- to break the silence and speak first. As if he should have gone to the reunion just because it was his family!
He stewed for a moment, wondering if he should wake her with a pitcher of cold water in the morning, or if he should rouse her from bed with a sack of boiled potatoes instead. But at last he resolved to settle the matter maturely, and went to sleep.
Early the next morning as he slipped out the door for work, he placed a small piece of note paper by her bed. The paper said, "It is 5 a.m. Wake up."
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