Love Means...

It had been a long trip and, although the flight home was smooth, I arrived tired. I’ve found that the best way to handle east-bound jetlag is to take a short nap upon arrival. Nazy saw that I was tired and concurred. Leaving me on my own, she left to buy some groceries.

“Don’t worry, Dan. I’ll be back in about 2 hours.”

“That’s great!” I replied, locking the front door and simultaneously failing to notice that I had left the key hanging in the keyhole. I took a quick shower and instantly fell into a deep sleep.

As promised, Nazy returned home a few hours later. As mentioned, I was sound asleep. There was one unforeseen development: It is not possible to unlock the door from the outside if there is a key in lock on the inside. Nazy couldn’t get in. Unaware that I was sleeping with my good ear buried in the pillow, Nazy rang the doorbell. I didn’t hear it. She called the home phone. I didn’t hear it. She called my iPhone – it was on my desk in ‘silent’ mode. Nazy left several messages – culminating in:

“It’s been two hours, Dan.”

She was just about to call the police (maybe something had happened to me), when I heard the pounding and ringing. Nazy was not amused.

“When I left the key in the lock and trapped you outside for 20 seconds, Dan,” she noted. “You were very angry. You kept me outside more than two hours. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

The photo shows the messages left on the iPhone (which was in the other room). A similar number showed up on the home phone (also in another room).