A big laundry basket overflowing with unmatched socks sits in its permanent spot in the middle of my family room. The idea is that while we are wasting our lives watching Swamp People or Hoarders or Dance Moms (God help us), we will match them. The truth is that I can't remember the last time I saw the bottom of that basket. And yet, nearly every morning I hear the same cry:
"MOOOOOOMMMMM! I can't find any matching socks."
I used to heed the call, come running to the aid of the cold-footed child, and frantically sort and sift until I finally pulled out a matching pair. Or more often, pulled out a couple that were close enough. Now, I don't know if I could find a match to save my life. The kids have taken to wearing whatever two socks they grab from the basket. I guess I should be grateful the fad of wearing mismatched socks has recently taken hold in middle school.
The fact that we have lived for years with this sock stress is a dysfunction to be addressed at another time. The abundance of sockage and the problems accompanying it actually got me to thinking of another issue. In fact, suddenly I noticed this problem everywhere. No, not the problem of mismatched socks, but rather the problem of over abundance.
Did you know that we live in a world of a lot of nothing? Think about it--a shelf full of dusty Wii games that no one wants to play. An attic full of holiday decorations that almost never see the light of day. A closet full of clothes and never a thing to wear. A pantry full of food and nothing to eat in the house. Two-thousand cable channels and nothing to watch but Swamp People, Hoarders, or Dance Moms. God Help Us!
In the midst of all this abundance, I did notice one thing there is not enough of and that is time. There is NEVER enough time. I know I'm not the only one lacking in this area. Every mom I know is constantly running out of time. We'd work out, if we could only find the time. We would eat healthy, if we had the time to actually cook a meal. We'd read a novel, finish a scrap book, match all the socks in the house...if only we had the time!
If only we could trade all the stuff for more time. I'd buy that on EBay all day long, if I had the time to cyber shop, that is. Unfortunately, that time is not now. My TV alarm just went off. A new episode of Hoarders is starting in just a few minutes.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
It Comes Back to Bite Ya
Sometimes I wish my mom hadn't taught me that it's wrong to say "Bite Me!"
It's completely true. When I was young and naive and thought I knew the "right" way to live, I would never have dreamed of saying, "Bite Me!" In fact, I would have been offended at the very idea of anyone using that as a comeback at all. Even in a PG-13 movie (which are usually way more crass than R, but that's another blog). But as I've grown older and perhaps wiser, the Bite Me comeback has gained in appeal. It's become a tasty little morsel that I'd like to have just one opportunity to taste.
In fact, I'd like more than just a morsel. I'd like a whole menu full of Bite Me! I actually have a Bite Me list. You know how most people have a list of things they would do with their millions if they ever won the lottery? I have one of those. But I also have a long list of people I'd walk up to in the middle of their normal, mundane, boring, judgmental lives and say, "Bite me!"
Horrible, I know. But true, just the same. Don't worry, though. Because it will never happen. I actually have more chance of winning the lottery than I ever have of completing my Bite Me List.
Here's the problem--without fail, every time I've turned from my nicey-nicey, Polyanna reaction, it's come back to bite ME.
Example:
I'd lived in the same house for over a decade with no curtains. Oh, there were a few cheap blinds and dingy shirrs that were hung when the house was built, years before I lived there, but there were no actual draperies. So when I became sole owner of the house, I wanted curtains. I wanted them like a Devil's food cake wants fudgy frosting.
I called three different drapery stores and made the appointments. You know the kind I mean. The "We'll be there sometime between noon and five appointments." On the given day, I waited. Patiently. Noon came and went. Five came and went. The curtain lady...never came or went. I called the store. They were very sorry. She had been delayed. Could we reschedule? Sure. Why not.
The second given day was a repeat of the first. And I was steamed. I called the store. They were very sorry. There had been an emergency with another customer. A curtain emergency. I see. Could they reschedule? Of course. These things happen. Curtain emergencies happen everyday. Why not.
The day for the third appointment came. I was ready. If this guy didn't show up, someone was gonna hear about it. I almost hoped he didn't show up. Until he didn't.
I called his phone and his voicemail answered and I left my message. "I'm calling you because we had an appointment this afternoon and not only did you not show up, but you didn't even bother to call. At this point, if this is the way your company treats its customers, don't bother calling to reschedule. I'm not interested!"
I hung up and felt good! It was the first time I could remember standing up for myself since I was probably about 18 years old. I strutted. I swaggered. I replayed in my head the message I had just left that inconsiderate, unprofessional, lazy, poor excuse of a salesman.
The next day when the Curtain Company called, I was more than ready for them. Or so I thought.
"We just wanted to apologize for missing your appointment yesterday. The consultant scheduled to meet with you had a family emergency. His sister died yesterday."
I'm completely serious. This is no joke. The first time in years that I had decided to NOT turn the other cheek, and this was the result. Although it was quite embarrassing, it wasn't a surprise. I've gotten used to it really, the ironic little life lesson God teaches me.
As for the Bite Me List, you can see why that won't ever happen. It has nothing to do with the lottery and everything to do with the fact that if I say "Bite Me" too many times (and especially if I'm enjoying it) it might just be seen as an invitation for all that bad will to come back and bite me in the you-know-where.
So I guess I'll just keep turning the other cheek like my Mama taught me. Between Mom and God, there's one thing at least I've learned...Karma has sharp teeth.
It's completely true. When I was young and naive and thought I knew the "right" way to live, I would never have dreamed of saying, "Bite Me!" In fact, I would have been offended at the very idea of anyone using that as a comeback at all. Even in a PG-13 movie (which are usually way more crass than R, but that's another blog). But as I've grown older and perhaps wiser, the Bite Me comeback has gained in appeal. It's become a tasty little morsel that I'd like to have just one opportunity to taste.
In fact, I'd like more than just a morsel. I'd like a whole menu full of Bite Me! I actually have a Bite Me list. You know how most people have a list of things they would do with their millions if they ever won the lottery? I have one of those. But I also have a long list of people I'd walk up to in the middle of their normal, mundane, boring, judgmental lives and say, "Bite me!"
Horrible, I know. But true, just the same. Don't worry, though. Because it will never happen. I actually have more chance of winning the lottery than I ever have of completing my Bite Me List.
Here's the problem--without fail, every time I've turned from my nicey-nicey, Polyanna reaction, it's come back to bite ME.
Example:
I'd lived in the same house for over a decade with no curtains. Oh, there were a few cheap blinds and dingy shirrs that were hung when the house was built, years before I lived there, but there were no actual draperies. So when I became sole owner of the house, I wanted curtains. I wanted them like a Devil's food cake wants fudgy frosting.
I called three different drapery stores and made the appointments. You know the kind I mean. The "We'll be there sometime between noon and five appointments." On the given day, I waited. Patiently. Noon came and went. Five came and went. The curtain lady...never came or went. I called the store. They were very sorry. She had been delayed. Could we reschedule? Sure. Why not.
The second given day was a repeat of the first. And I was steamed. I called the store. They were very sorry. There had been an emergency with another customer. A curtain emergency. I see. Could they reschedule? Of course. These things happen. Curtain emergencies happen everyday. Why not.
The day for the third appointment came. I was ready. If this guy didn't show up, someone was gonna hear about it. I almost hoped he didn't show up. Until he didn't.
I called his phone and his voicemail answered and I left my message. "I'm calling you because we had an appointment this afternoon and not only did you not show up, but you didn't even bother to call. At this point, if this is the way your company treats its customers, don't bother calling to reschedule. I'm not interested!"
I hung up and felt good! It was the first time I could remember standing up for myself since I was probably about 18 years old. I strutted. I swaggered. I replayed in my head the message I had just left that inconsiderate, unprofessional, lazy, poor excuse of a salesman.
The next day when the Curtain Company called, I was more than ready for them. Or so I thought.
"We just wanted to apologize for missing your appointment yesterday. The consultant scheduled to meet with you had a family emergency. His sister died yesterday."
I'm completely serious. This is no joke. The first time in years that I had decided to NOT turn the other cheek, and this was the result. Although it was quite embarrassing, it wasn't a surprise. I've gotten used to it really, the ironic little life lesson God teaches me.
As for the Bite Me List, you can see why that won't ever happen. It has nothing to do with the lottery and everything to do with the fact that if I say "Bite Me" too many times (and especially if I'm enjoying it) it might just be seen as an invitation for all that bad will to come back and bite me in the you-know-where.
So I guess I'll just keep turning the other cheek like my Mama taught me. Between Mom and God, there's one thing at least I've learned...Karma has sharp teeth.
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