She dropped by unannounced. And I couldn't help cringing somewhat. Ever-so-slightly mortified.
You see, she was an author, something of a celebrity, and now a personal friend. So, of course, I was thrilled to see her, but was also deeply concerned about the impression we were making. Suddenly self-conscious of the layer of dust on the piano and the ridiculous pile of dirty socks by the front door.
I faintly whispered to my husband, "Oh, what must she be thinking??"
And his helpful response, "That we live here." (Thank you, Dear).
But we soon lost ourselves in conversation and enjoyed a lovely time of catching up on each others' lives. Ignoring the young boys rollerblading through the entryway and the teens crooning love songs while cleaning up the lunch dishes. Our own happy kind of chaos.
The hour passed quickly and our glamorous friend got up to go. Before leaving, however, she turned to say something. Then stopped. Clearly something was on her mind.
"I don't know quite how to say this..." she began.
Oh dear. Here it comes.
"But you know what I've noticed whenever I'm in your home?"