It had been one of those days with the kids. That feeling of being chronically behind on everything, of not doing any one thing well, of not being the kind of mom I want to be, of letting temporal things that have little eternal value irk me.
It was one of those days that turn to weeks that, if not derailed by a good attitude adjustment, would become my life.
Temporal or not, I had to make a quick run to the big box grocery store. This was to be a strategic 'get A, B and C then leave' trip. No meandering, no bargain hunting, no nonsense.
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It was early in the day and I had my youngest daughter Virginia, then 10, and her cousin Amanda with me. I delivered orders like a drill sergeant:
"Stay right by me.
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"And don’t ask 'Can we? Can we?' We are doing an in-and-out trip."
So I’m a woman on a mission clicking along the aisles when, wouldn't you know, the kids get tempted by a vendor offering samples of egg rolls. The vendor is required to get parental permission, so she looks to me and lifts her eyebrows in question. I don't want to be rude, so I slow down.
I really don’t have time for this, I think. But I say, "Sure, they may." I pause, but my body language is clear: I’m not stopping long.
The vendor, an older woman in her 60s with dyed raven-black hair, asks my daughter Virginia, "School is out already?"
"No ma'am," she says, "we’re home schooled."
The vendor stops, makes eye contact with me, then says: "Thank you. Thank you for doing that. I'm grateful for people like you."
Thank you?
In 20 years of parenting and home schooling, I have had people say all manner of things to me about home schooling but never thank you.
I ended up buying the egg rolls.
To this day, my family looks at me strangely when we have stir-fry and I’m having a moment with my egg roll before I eat it.
But I can’t get over it: She said thank you.
