Today Aub and I were doing the Out and Abouts and wound up at the grocery store. It’s very unusual for me to find myself there twice in a week, but sometimes it happens. We were just there Wednesday, but I didn’t get enough of this and forgot to get that, so there we were.
At the grocery store.
I promised myself I wouldn’t do this again.
Still. There we were. Circling the parking lot. This time I knew I was circling–looking for a parking spot that wasn’t way on the other side of the gas station. I am a picky parker, especially at the grocery store. I admit it. I like to park very close or–yay–right next to the buggy corral.
As we headed up to the prime spot next to a corral, Aub pointed out the guy pushing one of those race car buggies made especially for shoppers with small children. “Ewwwww, look, that guy is pushing a child’s cart, and he’s all by himself! What is that? Is he planning on picking up one or two inside? That’s creepy as mess.”
I took in the situation as I eyeballed my parking space and made sure no one else was gunning for it. (I can multi-task like that sometimes.) The guy was fairly young, wearing a coat, and sure enough, he was pushing a cart for children with no children in sight. That was when I caught a glimpse of something underneath his jacket.
A name tag. He worked at the grocery store and was commandeering shopping carts from the parking lot.
Well, now, that makes a whole lot of sense.
Bless my girl, it was one of those moments where we laughed a lot longer than anyone else would have, and it was funny to us. But all kidding aside, we all do this at times, don’t we? We see something without having all the facts and looking at it with face value, we tend to pathologize it. Point out how messed up it all is.
When in fact, it very well could be something else entirely.
Like maybe the clothes someone’s wearing out to the Mart isn’t an indication they’re crazy or broke or really messed up. Maybe they’re grieving or their washer is broken or they haven’t slept in days because of something they are going through.
Maybe it’s because of something not…..very creepy.
Just a thought.
Life is hard, and it is easy to jump the gun and make quick judgments. That’s called survival, right? Tonight I’m thankful for those times when we can take time to pause and reassess…..
and discover it’s really not creepy after all.
Love to all.
P.S. I’m really proud of my Aub though. She’s always a good advocate for those who need it most, and children who might be picked up by creepy people are definitely in that category. Love you, Aub. Good looking out. ❤
1 thought on “Or Maybe He’s Not Creepy…..”
I try to be “not judgmental” but I sometimes have to fight the urge. I grew up with a lovely brother with Down Syndrome and I hated it when people seemed to judge him. I know that people don’t know how to respond to the hole in my throat where my voice box used to be. It seems to bother the observer more than it bothers me.
I’m sure that the guy pushing the funny cart around would have been amused at your reaction. If he knew who he was, he wouldn’t care–if he didn’t know who he was, he probably wouldn’t even notice. My mother once said, “the sign of a good writer is knowing when to stop.” I’m there. Nice article