Monday, November 14, 2011

Really, it's not you, it's me.

Sigh. It's been one of those days. I really feel guilty complaining about today, because I have nothing really to complain about. Kids a little sassy? Others not cooperating? All the traffic lights turning red on you and the ATM repairman pulls in front of you just as you were about to get money? Yeah? Well, why don't you think about the people all around you who have real problems -- poverty, abuse, illnesses. Hmpf. This is the internal dialogue running through my head ever since I left the Busiest Store In Town. But I was not being so philosophical earlier. Ahem.

It was not one of my prouder moments. With twenty minutes before I had to pick my daughter up from gymnastics, I spotted happy cashier, Sharon, with only one customer, so I took my chances. It was obvious the woman in front of me had her entire month's worth of groceries to pay for, but I thought it couldn't possibly take THAT long. Ha! Five minutes passed, and Sharon decides to play peek-a-boo with the customer's adorable and happy daughter. A few more groceries are scanned until Sharon can no longer fight the kid cuteness and plays patty-cake. I do not lie. About this time, my inner bi-atch comes out. It has been 10 minutes in line, and I am starting to get antsy. An appropriately dramatic sigh with some foot-tapping ensues. The happy customer with the adorable daughter turns around and smiles at me. I am stuck with someone behind me in line, so I decide to wait it out. Five more minutes pass, and, after more play-breaks, Sharon eventually finishes scanning the groceries when . . . wait for it . . . the happy customer with the adorable kid pulls out a two-inch thick stack of coupons! HA! Which Sharon does not know how to scan because they are computer copies.

What happened next was mild, by most people's standards, but I would have been horrified if someone I knew saw my behavior. I snatched up my groceries, mumbled something to the happy customer with the adorable daughter now staring at me about having to go because I was going to "miss my daughter," attempted to chase down the manager to hold my groceries, and, when that failed, just abandoned my cart in the store to flee to my car like a crazed lunatic. As my son, who witnessed this episode, says, "Mom, you lost your cool. But you weren't rude, or anything." Well, at least there's something.

Patience is not one of my stronger character traits. It's not my second, third, or even fourteenth. But I am trying, constantly aware that my kids are watching. And I am ever hopeful that they will end up much more zen-like than me.

So to everyone out there unfortunate enough to witness my melt downs, I am so very sorry. Unless, of course, you are Sharon the patty-cake-playing-cashier. In which case, really, it IS you!

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