I confess that I am somewhat hot-headed at times.

My husband is at least as hot-headed, if not more so.

There are moments when the voices raise, the tempers flare, the eyes narrow. Sometimes I even wag my finger in his nose. Seldom does the emotion last long. Like a tea-kettle whistling, such outbursts are often the signal for us to remove the source of heat. And once the heat is removed the boiling ceases and things begin to cool down.

One such moment occurred this afternoon as we were cleaning up the house in preparation for some guests due to arrive in ten or fifteen minutes. And, why yes, that was my voice yelling something at my poor husband just seconds before the ding-dong of the doorbell.

Nice, huh? I’m sorry, honey.