I have to be honest and admit that I was a bit manipulative this weekend. Saturday night was the night we were expected to go to a party...a second annual going away party for the daughter of the Boy Scout's best friend. I dreaded it tremendously and, as I mentioned in the previous post, the last time we attended this party things did not go all that well. As Saturday progressed I thought of getting sick...."cough, cough".... or I could pick a fight (Lord knows I do that well). Scheming and machinations; I am not proud but I came up with one that would be effective.
As I opened my mouth to put forth my plan, I felt a pang of remorse. Then with shame, I admitted to the Boy Scout what I was doing with a heartfelt apology. Lo and behold, he took my plan joyfully and ran with it like a Labrador puppy with a stick at the beach. We packed up our stuff and off we went to Santa Barbara for a nice round of golf at a really nice course. Gorgeous day to play; cool breeze, overcast with the sun peeking through here and there. Somewhere around the 9th hole, I got a case of the guilts and proposed we cut our game short, run home and still make the party. Unfortunately, due to a bit of an accident (in a, ahem, tender spot) the man was not feeling all that festive.
It was a dodge for me. I could have done it and been proud of myself for doing so. Now I’m left with a feeling of disappointment. I should have done the right thing and challenged my comfort level for some nice people. Despite my good intentions on Friday, I allowed my fears to get in the way of a chance be sociable. Lesson learned. I'll do better next time.