But I was falling into the trap that society has laid for Men, Husbands, and Dads: I was convincing myself that I had been worthless.
The “logs” were wonky. So much so that they caused the flame to go to one side – at least primarily – and blocked the heat. Let alone to my OCD self they were just un-natural.
Maybe making Sunday a day of rest was a good idea, Lord.
So we (Mama and The Heir Apparent) attended the first of five six-hour classes called “Basic Teachings of the Catholic Faith” at our Parish. It was nice, because it was a rare moment where Mama, Kristofer or I were NOT the ones doing the teaching!
Even scarier was dragging the vacuum back over the same strip and hearing the same thing, as more got pulled in. Desperately hoping I was done, I pushed forward over the strip and there was the noise, a little less but still there.