I’m at my friend Jane’s house in Phoenix today. As I was driving over I started thinking about the ins and outs of visiting people. I’ve been looking forward to this trip, and I’ve known Jane since I was five and she’s wonderful so I’m very confortable at her house, but it’s still a transition to go from my life at home to here. For one thing, when I drive away from home my husband and the two dogs look after me with sad looks on their faces. (Well, not actually the dogs because they don’t know what’s going on but my husband has a sad face.)
Mostly visiting is fun. First of all, there is the rule that everybody has to be pleasant. Both the host and the guest are on their best behavior so the few annoying things Jane did when we were kids are completely wiped out (just kidding). She is gracious and welcoming and makes everything flow easily for me. For my part, I appreciate everything she does and her house is pretty and I say so and I’m nice to her husband (who’s also great). It’s a mutual admiration society.
Secondly, no matter what I do she thinks it’s terrific. I offered to make dinner tonight and she happily accepted. In her view I’m going above and beyond to do that, whereas at home it’s just business as usual. Actually I’m lying about that because my husband does almost all of the cooking and he couldn’t believe that I was going to cook for somebody else and not for him.
It’s tempting to stay here a long time but I’m pretty sure I would get on her nerves after a while and she would finally get over her politeness enough to ask me to leave. So I’ll stay a few days and then head home, knowing that at the end of the road is a happy-faced husband and two excited dogs.
Tue, Apr 13, 2010
Blog Update