Pennies from heaven

Sometimes you lose sight of the more important things in your life. The kids are running circles around you, the phone's ringing off the hook, the dinner's burned and you've got a half-dozen appointments that you can't for the life of you keep straight in your cluttered and frazzled mind. You get to the point that you'd give just about anything for a little freedom. A night or a weekend to yourself. Peace and quiet. To be completely alone.

The funny thing is, getting what you wish for isn't always the dream come true you think it's going to be. There is such a thing as too quiet. Silence really can be deafening. The ticking of the clock gets annoying as hell.

This is when you realize how incredibly wonderful your normal, drab little life truly is. All the stress and turmoil is so much better than the alternative. The constant rush and run is hard and wears you down, but the love in the loudness makes it all worthwhile. That jolting in your heart when the baby screams and you run to her to make it all better. Kissing the owies when your son falls and skins his knee. The way you just have to smile when your school-ager sings her favorite songs as she dances around the kitchen while you're busy preparing a pot roast.

Suddenly it hits you: You want to call back the genie who gave you the peace you wanted and tell him you want to take your wish back. You cure the quiet with blasting stereo and call everyone you know just to hear them bitch about the neighbors or complain about the weather. You can't stand to sit at home alone. You miss the noise, you crave the helter skelter and insanity.

You used to say, "If I had a nickel..." And you'd be rich, right? What's rich? What makes one truly wealthy? The errands and responsibilities and craziness are just pennies from heaven. The small change adds up to so much more.