The Donkey and The Camel

The Donkey and The Camel

As we turned off of the highway to park in our little under-the overpass parking spot, on the way to the Guingettes (a vestige of a French, old 1920s dancehall that still played pre-WWll music for people dressed in period costume doing the Charleston or dancing to Piaf), our favorite Sunday lunch spot on the Marne river I yelled out to hubby, "look, there's a camel!"  He was driving but turned to peek for a second and said, “That’s not a camel, it's a donkey.

"No, it's not, it's a camel", I insisted only to have hubby raise his voice and respond, "I know camels, I grew up with camels and That is a donkey!"

I was not to be talked down to, so I shot back, "you may have grown up with them but obviously you can no longer recognize them!" and of course things degenerated rather quickly after that.

Back and forth we went with insults on each other's vision and memory etc but neither was willing to give in and admit that 'he' was wrong.

We had one of those knock-down-screaming matches that leave both parties shaken to the bone and wondering what happened to our sunny Sunday and how we would ever survive as a couple.

Finally we parked, slammed our respective car doors and turned to look at each other over the roof of the car and pointed, yelling simultaneously, "that is a Camel/Donkey!"...only I was pointing in one direction and hubby in a totally different one.

Yes, there were both a camel and a donkey grazing happily at opposite ends of a  large empty field along with an elephant and a number of ponies, horses and goats.

The circus was in town.

Fortunately for us, when our blood pressure dropped back down, we laughed it off.

But since then, whenever we get into 'one of those' arguments, we look at each other and ask, 'camel or donkey?'

Yes, sometimes you are both right...you are just not both looking in the same direction.