We are in the midst of doing a little rearranging here at the Jones house. Mr. Jones is helping me fix up a little craft area in our guest room. I'm going to set up my mom's sewing machine and my fancy-dancy cutting machine. This little setup involves converting our old, beat-up computer desk into cutesy little craft desk and replacing it with a new desk for the office. Truth be told, that's the only reason Mr. Jones is leading this project...he's been trying to get a new office makeover for quite some time. Well tonight he thought we'd pop over to do some desk shopping which meant an early dinner. Sounds like a sweet little evening, right? How wrong could I be?!
It started off well enough. I came home and got it in gear. Cooking a fabulous Italian dinner (a new recipe from Pinterest), working with Graham on his letters, and straightening up the house in record speed. Just as I was marveling at my awesome wifey/mother skills this evening, dinner was "done" right as Mr. Jones came home. Well just as I'm spooning the "done" chicken onto everyone's plates, and of course handing over my children's plates first, I happen to notice that the chicken isn't done. After I execute a near nose dive to grab it from my son's hands, lest he ingest some on the way to the chair, I try to figure out what to do to fix this mess. The whole top part of the dish is done...almost well done, but the chicken isn't???? After years of worrying that some chicken dish isn't cooked through and I find one...right when I think I've got stuff under control over here. Lovely. Dinner was a wash.
Next, we decided to keep moving forward. Since we have this big evening of shopping planned, we decided to just pick up some food on the way. I'd like to say things got better, but Graham really insisted on chicken. Of all the food in the world. Chicken. Of course, I should have started my "we don't get everything we want" speech, but the way things were going, we just went with it.
Finally we find ourselves at the store with more vowels than consonants in its name, and we locate a desk that both of us love. Things are really looking up because Mr. Jones always disagrees with whatever I pick out (his taste isn't what it should be sometimes). Problem is, we can't find someone to help us. This store has two levels and we can't find one person. When we locate a store assistant, he tells us he's busy and we'll have to wait. That seemed a bit of a harsh way to put it, but okay. It's late and I'm sure he's tired. So approximately five minutes later he comes over and just raises his eyebrows at us and does a slight eye roll. No words. Just eyebrows. I guess that was code for "How may I help you?" but I wasn't speaking his language. This man did not just get attitude with me in front of my children. You DO NOT approach someone with eyebrows and I let him know it. I let him know that when he walks up to a customer, he will need to use some manners because that is your job. You will use your words and they will be nice because that is your job. All I need is a little help and you will give it because that is your JOB. And when he asked me how he could help me nicely, I knew I had done MY job.
I am the nurturer, nurse, counselor, teacher, janitor, cuddler, and general caretaker of this family. Cook, clean, pick up, set up, make up, whatever it takes. It's hard and I am tired and not everything goes right. I often fail at my job, in the example of tonight, almost giving my family Salmonella, but I will always keep at it and I will do it with a smile. Because that's my job, and I like it. And if I ever feel like I don't like it, I need to suck it up because that's just part of the job, too. Mr. Manners reminded me that of that tonight. We were not promised easy and there is no sense in pouting when we don't get it. Instead, it is the effort that should be the focus. That is what people will remember.
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