June 19, 2010
I could tell from the look on his face that whatever it was he wanted to show me was no small matter. As inconvenienced as I felt at that moment, I knew my attention was needed. I placed my Diet Pepsi on the floor, set the computer to the side, awakened my sleeping feet from the ottoman, moved my book pile, closed my notebook and impatiently marched across the room.
J reluctantly agreed to let me spend some time editing a blog for Yow Dance and to write “Royal Approval” while he played a game or designed a roller coaster on his computer. Or so I thought that’s what he was doing.
I was in the zone when he interrupted me and quietly with a very serious face said he needed my help with something. I wanted to help him, of course, but, as I said, I was “in the zone” and didn’t want to lose momentum.
He pointed at his computer screen and said: “Will you please read this? You said if I ever wrote something, you wanted to see it before I let anyone else see it.”
The whole time he was patiently waiting for me, he’d been working feverishly on his latest conquest: writing. He had started a blog. My prince started a blog.
And I had the audacity to feel inconvenienced when he’d interrupted me.