oscars and oscarettes...

So yesterday morn, I had to go to town for groceries and to pick up some packages from the business we have everything shipped to. (Living out in the country—and being a half-mile from our gate—we don’t have a mailbox or any way to keep packages from being affected by the weather/elements or people who might like to pick them up and see what they are. Which wouldn't be neighborly. Winky Wink. Therefore—we have a box at our CUTE little Post Office that’s less than three miles from our casa. And we have everything else—that can’t be sent to a Post Office box—delivered to a shipping/independent post office business that’s about twenty miles from our casa. Not terribly convenient. But when we go out of town? We know everything is going to be safe and there when we return. And we love the owner and her staff. They ROCK. Plus they have lots of fun little gifts that are sometimes hard to resist.)

Hellmart was especially challenging. I think I’ve mentioned in the past that I prefer to get there by 8:00 on Saturday mornings. It’s quiet. Easy to check out. Not a lot of people competing for a cashier. I wasn’t able to arrive until almost 10:00. Sheesh. The wait to check out was almost excruciating.

And then there are The Grouches of this World. (I refer to them as The Oscars and/or Oscarettes—re: Sesame Street Oscar. These people can be any age and often are too young to be so miserably rude. Or The Geezers and/or Geezerettes. If they appear to be 62 or older. Yes, that could be considered mean of me. Anti-Senior Citizen. Nope. I give them these titles with love. Trust me. Plus I'm 64. I feel like I'm being pretty fair.) You know them! They’re driving cars/trucks around you—everywhere you go. They’re blocking your need to get to the bread or Coke Zeroes or diapers in grocery aisles. Sometimes they're the employees of said grocery stores—the people that are stocking. You—needing to get where they are? They don't like it. One bit. They also work in doctor offices or at the gas station/convenience store. They’re possibly having a bad day. Or you’ve somehow—unknowingly—offended them.

My Sweet Hubby (MSH) and I talk about The Grouches every time we go anywhere together in our vehicle. Road rage is real and beyond frightening. People are driving ENTIRELY too fast. Yes, Man in the Black Truck: I realize you and your life and schedule are much more important than ours or the rest of the peeps in your way. Go ahead: Endanger MSH’s and my life. Endanger all of us. Why not?

I’ve said this before and I'll say it again: I will never ever EVER claim to be perfect. In any way. And at anything. Driving. Shopping. Existing. I’m not. I make my share of mistakes. More than my share, actually.When I do, I truly try not to even look angry at the people I’ve annoyed. Not just out of fear. Out of remorse. Out of respect. Out of the deepest regret.

When I’m in Hellmart or other stores? Restaurants? Anywhere? I do my utmost best to SMILE at everyone. Even the people who positively REFUSE to smile back at me. It’s okay. Maybe I’ll catch you in a better mood next time.

On this Sweet Sunday—and Wherever in this World Y’all are: PLEASE BE KIND. Patient. Polite. PATIENT. Wise. Smart. KIND. I truly believe you’ll be glad you made that choice. God and Jesus will be proud of you, too.

Hugs,

ELC

P.S.: Tomorrow TLC and The Little Princesses will be here! Yippee and Woo Hoo! TLC hasn’t been able to come for a visit for several months. MSH and I are super psyched! I’m cooking and baking and cleaning and getting everything ready. Because these visits are The Meaning of Life to MSH and me. Seriously critical to our mental health. It helps us try to avoid being Oscars and Oscarettes.