Frosting Sunsets and Dates with Misery

I've heard the phrase before, misery Loves Company, and I would be lying if I said at times I don't make a conscious choice to kick back with misery, keep it company, and spend at times a few days together.



So after kickin' it with misery for a few days already, Friday was gearing up to be another grumpy quiet day. Me and misery were spending a perfectly quiet keep to myself kind of day at work-- getting overwhelmed by a challenging workload that normally motivates me.

On the way home from work, misery and I spent the ride mumbling under our breath and shouting at other drivers who felt the need to weave in and out of traffic like maniacs, a habit of other drivers I'm not to fond of, but on a good day can generally tolerate.

When I pulled into the drive way, misery and I had a great Friday night date planned as we prepared to knit quietly, and then retire to my room for an early night of reading and bed.

As it would seem however, my nieces had already began their own Friday night date, and were dressed the part in aprons hanging out with creativity, and their good pal happiness.

If misery loves company- I would say he's not all too fond of these girls who tend to carry happiness and a smile around in their back pocket wherever they go.

But with diligence, and commitment, I worked to keep my Friday night date, after all I couldn't stand misery up after we spent the last three days together, could I?

So misery and I retired to the couch where we began to knit, as my nieces began puttering away in the kitchen. Pans clinked and clangs as misery whispered in my ear how annoyed I should be at the ruckus, meanwhile the ever-present Mr. Curiosity tapped me on the shoulder, nudging me to go check out what they're doing.

Despite curiosities peer pressure, I happily declined, and continued my date with misery.

Minutes later, the oven door opened and closed, and again, curiosity nudged, but again, I declined, and laboured away on my blanket.

8 minutes, one timer buzz and an excited giggle later, my wide eyed niece bounced into the living room—linked arm and arm with pride to exclaim that her cookies had turned out.

"Steffie, wanna come and see?” She asked. I was certain at that point that her and curiosity must have planned that one.

“Sure hun, let me just finish my row” I replied as misery scoffed In my ear at the thought that I was going to get off my grumpy behind.

I sluggishly inched my way into the kitchen to see what all the noise was about. As I entered the door way, I was greeted by a beaming bouncing bucket of sunshine proudly displaying the batch of sugar cookies she had baked by herself.

I mentally evaluated the situation while congratulating my nieces on a job well done as I reached into the fridge to grab a diet Pepsi. As I looked onto the shelf of the fridge, a small tube of decrotive icing and as misery called out to me from the sofa, I knew what I had to do.

Despite the commitment I had made, and time set aside for my date, I stood up my misery, and left the poor lonely sap on the sofa.

While I could have kept my date with misery, and perhaps it would have been the polite thing to do, I kicked that jerk to the curb, and linked arms with my new beau happiness.


Happiness and I met my nieces in the kitchen where we partied with creativity, imagination, humour, and cheer- where one tube of decorative icing turned into two then three, and then homemade icing with food coloring piped through zip lock baggies as our sugar cookie canvases came to life in a colourful array of designs, flowers, frosting sunsets. We decorated, laughed, and munched on the product of our hard work for hours—stopping to bake a second double batch of cookies when we in all our snacking glory realized most of our fresh baked cookies were gone.

Maybe I shouldn't have stood misery up the way I did, and perhaps it wasn't the most ladylike thing for me to do but the way I see it, nothing I could ever do seemed to make that dude happy and well, happiness and I, we're doin' just fine these days.