Dinner conversation last night was all about what to give up for Lent. The tweener and full blown teenager present (they shall remain nameless) considered giving up chocolate, makeup, ice cream… Chocolate was dismissed as “too cliché,” makeup was declared cheating because it was hardly applied by anyone anyway, and ice cream, well, that just wasn’t enough of a sacrifice, not with the long, cold New York winter we were having.
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I interrupted the brainstorming: “You don’t have to give something up, you know. You can also do something positive.” Here’s my chance, I thought. “Like setting the table every night without me having to ask. Or keeping your rooms clean, changing the empty toilet paper roll. Or folding the laundry instead of stepping around the basketful of it. Who do you think does that stuff when you don’t? Me,” I said. “Me!”
The table went quiet. All eyes on me. An angel must have whispered to me in the silence. “Oops,” I said. “For Lent, I will give up thinking everything is about me.”
