In the dwelling, the so restless dwelling, no peace before the morning light...
"Are you mad at me, Tessy?"
At desolate kitchen island Tess fought drink flinging urge, emphatically clunked down lukewarm mug of creme brulee coffee. "Now Theodore, what inapt reason could possibly propel our wedded bliss into the Land of Irkdom?"
"Irkdom?" Ted slid onto stool next Tess.
"The point where displeasure meets disappointment, Ted." Elbow next coffee on island, Tess sighed, rubbed right temple neath dark hair a muss.
"So, we are not at the point of no return, but experiencing turbulence." Ted smiled, added, "No way to fly a paper plane airline, Tessy."
"That little boy smile of yours and semi-handsome good looks are not getting you out of this one, mister whim-flit."
"So now I'm a what, dimwit?" Ted feigned indignation.
"Whim-flit, not dimwit, Teddy. You are intelligent, considering you're a man," she chuckled, "but your brain darts like a honey bee from flower to flower, flutters like a butterfly on the evening breeze, flicks like a squirrel tail at pecan burial. I'm talking spur of the moment ditsy whim-flit mania."
"Well I tad near never!" Little boy grin dimpled Ted chin. "Umbridge, Tess, umbridge is a bridge full a potholes."
"But..." Tess lips gave up smile of their own.
"But I'm a whim-flit?"
"Pretty much so."
"Might help if I knew what a whim-flit is, you think?"
"Thought you'd never ask." Tess raised left brow. "You might be a whim-flit if you flick, flutter, frisk, maybe even whisk from flower to thorn." Tess punctuated with head cocked nod.
"Ah, so you said I am a beautiful butterfly?" Ted fluttered butterfly lashes, celebrated selective hearing.
Mid coffee sip, Tess near spit, choked it down, recuperated, spit words instead. "Teddy, you are beautiful, but," she tilted head back to better cast schoolmarm glare down freckled nose, "but Teddy, you have the propensity to act on impulse, to indulge in urge, to tend toward notion, fancy and dream. Capriciousness, foilability and even fickleness may at times be deemed cute, yet even a tasty tart lemon in time spoils sour."
"Not just a sour lemon, a spoiled sour lemon, eh. Well let me tell you something little missy. You are smart, cute verging on gorgeous and tasty as sweet fig preserves on warm buttered toast."
"Fig jam?" Tess near giggled.
"Fig preserves." Ted eyed Tess. Tess eyed Ted. "And you know what I do to my favorite fig of all?" Ted wiggled semi-bushy brow, aimed puckering lips toward Tess ticklish neck.
"Stay away fig boy!" Tess cocked head, dipped chin, neck to protect.
Ted's hypnotic breath warmed Tess throat, raised dipped chin, and Ted should a stayed with plan, but the ill advised spilled out typical male mouth, "Now Tessy, you say your husband suffers from WFS, Whim Flit Syndrome, yet little is the evidence of wings of flit or flutter, nor bushy squirrel tail a flick or a frisk. Therefore, ergo, and to wit there be no basis for whim-flit castigation." Ted punctuated with unwise grin.
"Ah, but flit, flutter, flick and frisk only begins to describe what my tush did swimming in the shadow of forgotten and unclosed toilet seat this very night!"
"Ooops!" Grin fled Ted lips.
"I was so mad at you." Tears near welled in Tess green eyes.
"I apologize, Tessy." Her Teddy hugged her. "I would have been upset too." He kissed her forehead, sincerely plead, "Please find it in you heart to forgive me; and please know my transgression was no on-purpose whim, but half asleep unintended err of oops."
Tess made cozy nest of Ted chest. Snuggled closer than close. The Good Book did quote, "Jesus teaches us that if you forgive others their trespasses, our heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you forgive not others their trespasses, neither will your heavenly Father forgive your trespasses."
And as the err of oops faded away: Tess kissed her Teddy. Ted kissed his Tess. And as their hug grew closeness, Tess so blessed breathed prayer, "Thank you heavenly Father for my Teddy. Thank you for this beautiful man. For does not your creation the bee dart and whisk from flower to flower to make honey? Does not the flit and frisk of the squirrels tail shine praise for your provision of pecan and tree? Does not the flutter of your butterfly bring bright your joy? Please guide us by your Light our every flit, flutter and frisk. May our every word and deed reflect your love. Thank you heavenly Father. In Jesus name we ask and pray."
And near morning light Tess and her Ted found peaceful rest... blessed blissful dream...
Be not a wave tossed in the sea of whim... seek safe harbor in the arms of Jesus...
Matthew 11:28-30 KJV Jesus speaking, "Come unto me, all yea who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and yea shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."
John 8:12 Jesus speaking: "I am the light of the world; he that follows me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life."
Tess quoted Matthew 6:14-15 KJV the two verses following the Lord's Prayer (forgiveness)
