While there I sat down briefly at a table to pop open the laptop and retrieve a certain phone number. I set my brand new sunglasses, the ones I had purchased the previous day in Oklahoma City, down on the table.
I accidentally left them there. Typical of me, actually.
Realizing my mistake shortly after my unsuccessful attempts at searching out the chocolates, I ran back to the table only to find that someone had absquatulated with my sunglasses. I don't know who she was. I never saw her face, all I saw was a rapidly retreating, and admittedly callypigous, female form with what appeared to be my new sunglasses riding atop a head of long, chestnut colored hair.
I mumbled a few choice words. Just now however, I read this week's lectionary passage from the book of James:
If we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we guide their whole bodies. Or look at ships: though they are so large that it takes strong winds to drive them, yet they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs. So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits. How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire!
Back in my car, chastened, I proceeded to my host's abode from whence I type these humble words and eat a small portion of crow.