No words were exchanged. I just up and left before desert, before I chucked a spazza (that's a politically incorect term for 'get mad').
She was probably feeling a bit miserable about it.
So the next moring I sent a text message. "Sorry I got cross. You ways and mine are different, and there is no reason you should do things my way. Would you like to go on a bike ride after lunch?"
|Sunscreen, as supplied by Bonza Bike tours|
Nobody really teaches us how to do it, apart from the rare souls who give us a memorable one.
Words are a bit too cheap and easy, especially with shameless types like me.
Actually doing something for somebody, something that takes a meaningful chunk of time or money, is the way to go.
About 2 hours of our wages or time seems about right to 'clean up' after snapping at someone.
I've got another 60 or so years to refine my skills in this area.
I will be bloody marvelous at it, one day. That's the wish.