Sometimes, you just need a little space...

We might have considered giving each other some space the other night. A weekend getaway with friends turned political and all Hades broke lose as the children slept in the hotel bed beside us and the men drank girlie bottled drinks that they wouldn't be caught dead with in a bar. As they sipped, we discussed the errs of our government, of the political system, of the people we're electing (or not) and why we are voting (or not)... all together, not fodder for a light evening of laughter, as is our usual routine.

Board games and card games sat unopened on the table between us as the bottles emptied and the tempers rose. And all I could think was of the futility of it. That none of us were going to convince the other. And neither politician we elect this November is going to give us what we desire - no matter how much hope-filled-lingo is pumped into an arena or how many tickets are sold on the straight-talk express.

But still, there are things that stung, even knowing that we wouldn't ever see eye to eye to begin with. Maybe, had I been drinking myself, I would've let the words slide from me in my sleep, instead of waking with them still swirling. I took another stab over breakfast. Not at debate, but at understanding. I got little response. A pat answer and a compliment to bandage anything that the answer did not heal. You're wrong, but you're still nice, I'm sure.

*sigh*

Of course, the entire weekend was not politics and debate. Mostly, it was good times and laughter and unique eateries and ice cream stands. I've stolen these pictures that a friend took of The Boss and I, as I have so few pictures of us just being us.

Tickle-tortue is fantastic therapy.