There art thou happy (crème brûlée and pedicures)

One of my favourite bits in Romeo and Juliet is when Romeo is sobbing pathetically in Friar Lawrence's cell after being the indirect cause of Mercutio's death, killing Tybalt, and getting himself banished from Verona. After several lines of this, Friar Lawrence finally gets fed up and snaps:

Thy Juliet is alive/ For whose dear sake thou was but lately dead;/ There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,/But thou slewest Tybalt; there art thou happy too./ The law, that threat'ned death, becomes thy friend,/ And turns it to exile; there are thou happy./ A pack of blessings lights upon thy back;/ Happiness courts thee in her best array;/ But, like a misbehav'd and sullen wench, / Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love. . . .

So yesterday. I was "periodical" and came home from a morning volunteering at the school library to find that elder daughter wanted to take me up on my offer to take her shopping for jeans and makeup. Since this was her last day home after exams, and the new semester was due to start the next day, I thought we should beat the weekend crowds. As the bus neared downtown, I thought to check my pockets. No credit card, no money, no bank card to get money. Elder daughter took this remarkably well. I didn't, but on the bus trip home, we'd figured out how the fact that my money and cards were on my dresser was, in fact, all the Resident Fan Boy's fault. He'd gotten in my way during the morning routine and the vital step of pocketing my money and cards was thus omitted. Did I mention I was periodical?

By mid-afternoon, I was crampy and not looking forward to donning boot liners, boots, and icers. So I put it off. Now I was trudging up the hill, late, and furthermore, one boot liner was steadily working itself into my arch, taking my sock with it. I strode on, getting more uncomfortable and self-pitying by the minute. "Excuse me," said a lady from behind. "This wouldn't happen to be yours?" She had my bus pass. I must have dropped it near my house while hauling out my sunglasses, and she had trailed me all the way up the hill. In addition, this is the second time I've dropped my bus pass in the past two months, and the second time someone has taken the trouble to return it to me. A voice inside my head said: "There art thou happy." It sounded like Milo O'Shea in the 1968 film version of R&J. I made it across the treacherous field of ice to the school, thanks to my icers. There art thou happy. I sat on a bench inside and adjusted my sock and boot liner and because I'd given myself a pedicure the day before, no one catching a glimpse of my bare foot would have been nauseated. There art thou happy. (My boot liners are no things of beauty though; what possessed me to buy white ones?) I picked up younger daughter who was just closing her locker, and on the way home, remembered I had brought along my camera to capture shots of the crème brûlée snow resulting from the freezing rain and flash-freeze the day before, so spent the rest of the walk snapping away and thinking of my favourite bit from Amélie. There art thou happy.

Elder daughter told me on the way home from the aborted shopping trip that she can tell my mood when I come in the door: "Either it's 'Hello, Darling", or you're pissed." She meant American "pissed" (angry) ---all the same, I'd better clean up my act...