After stirring up pollen from a hundred oak trees my eyes were itching so badly I seriously thought they might be bleeding. I stumbled inside, frantically tossing bottles around in the medicine cabinet looking for the Visine AC. I was such a ridiculous wreck, the itching was so insane, I came way too close to squirting pin worm medicine in my eyes by accident. Once I could see again I realized my house was a complete disaster. I practically funneled a cup of coffee and at 2:00 I knew I had no choice but to turn into the super freak maid. I quickly cleaned the kitchen, swept, did laundry, made beds, and picked up enough toys to satisfy an entire African nation. I still needed to go to the grocery. Monday’s are soccer nights and big homework nights. There is a point to all this mundane shit, and it’s basically that I was exhausted. When we finally arrived at the grocery, I was looking and feeling rather hagg-y, felt like my eyes were full of tree sap, and as soon as we walked in the door, the baby calls out “I have poo!” UGH! When don’t you have poo? But we can’t leave, we have to have these groceries.
He sat on one cheek, like an old man trying to fart, through the slowest turkey slicer in all the land, and through a too long discussion with middle darling about what kind of sausage to have with red beans. I knew we were on borrowed time. I was charging down the aisle when I saw a “slow shopper” up ahead. His movements were like a tree sloth, he was wearing socks and crocs, and he was studying everything, oblivious to me, and that’s fine. Only I was coming rather quickly, grabbing things off of shelves frantically, and on a mission to get this not-normal smelling diaper out of my face. The smell was both wafting around and lingering and I was afraid people would notice. I looked and felt disgusting; they might have even thought it was me. The slow shopper was busy studying a can, and there was more space in front of him than behind him, so I scurried in front of him. I didn’t really say anything, didn’t mumble an excuse, didn’t look at him; I had a nose full of something foul and I was exhausted and frazzled. As soon as I passed him, he barked loudly, “Well excuse you!” at my back. Shivers! The hair raised on the back of my neck. He must have seen me go rigid. My first thought was that this mo' fo' has no clue who he is talking to. ‘Cause I am so done. My next thought was to hike the tot onto my shoulder thereby allowing the diarrhea diaper access to his nose while offering a very long winded apology. I decided to just keep moving. As I took a few more steps, I thought about turning around and making fun of his crocs, or asking him just what exactly I needed him to excuse me for? I just got finished blogging that there is an epidemic of assholishness going on, and now here is another one standing right behind me. Who’s asshole is this?
I kept thinking about it this afternoon. Why do I care? I know I'm overly sensitive right now. But did I really do something wrong by not asking for him to excuse me while I walked in front of him, the path of least resistance? Why does it even bother me enough that I thought about it several more times? I guess because I’m just so exhausted, because I’m just trying so hard, because I’m trying to do it all, trying to be two people, trying to turn this shit around, trying not to let it overcome me, trying to move the hell on. This man, he is nothing. He means nothing to me. But I realize so much now that we don’t have a CLUE what is going on in anyone else’s life. I often think about the strangers standing around me in the grocery line now. Does someone have cancer? Did someone lose a loved one this week? People keep saying how we are all so connected. It’s a buzz phrase that seems to keep popping up. And it’s true, we are. I get that I wasn’t courteous. But I don’t think I was mean. I’m just a girl, walking down the aisle, with my smelly kids, trying to feed my family. Cut a mutha some slack. Asshole.