He ate the bacon.
Of all the low-down, inconsiderate, super-jerk things to do, he ate my lunch.
Didn’t he know I had this day planned? Didn’t he know there was no room for error, no margin for the unexpected? Doesn’t he know I’m functioning on next to nothing, barely holding it together here?
I needed that bacon. I was planning on it, depending on it. He wasn’t supposed to eat it, that bacon was for me.
I don’t know what he was supposed to do. Or eat. But it was mine.
Sure, I never told him that was my plan – or that I had a plan – but he should have known.
And now I have no lunch. And I’m hungry. And there is no time for anything else.
That dirty dog, eating the leftovers in our fridge. What was he thinking?
He was thinking, “We have next to no income and a beast of a borrowed car.” He was thinking, “I should eat what is here and not let anything go to waste.” He was thinking, “mmm, bacon.”
This week may you be quick to forgive the bacon-eater in your life. May your relationships be marked by good communication and an abundance of grace. And in the years to come, may you also find yourself fully forgiven and belly laughing about the silly, stressed-out person you once were.