The story today is sweet. Two teenaged boys came into the store with their parents. One was tall and gangly and red haired, with a thin face and high cheekbones. His brother was tall too, but his gait was awkward and shambling. When they came to the register, I saw that the dark haired boy was mentally challenged, profoundly so. This was a farm family, and they paid for their purchases. The mother called her husband over to look at a heating stove, and the two teenagers were left at the counter. One boy stood slack jawed and staring vacantly, his shirt front stained with his supper. I looked at him, and I realized that he would have been beautiful if not for the accident of his chromosomes, and because I am a mother, there was a rush of maternal feelings for a child not my own. The red-haired brother pushed the cart forward and turned to his brother. In a tone of the most exquisite tenderness, he said to his brother, "Come on, it's time to go." And his brother looked at him, startled almost, and began to follow him in his odd gait. The love in that small scene touched my heart.
Today, also, a young girl came in with her father. She got a pair of barn boots. Because I am a horrible blabber, I said, "Well, now you're ready to go to work!" in a joking kind of voice. This teenager looked square at me and said, "I don't work. If I did work, it would be because I chose to, not because somebody bought me a pair of boots and told me to do it." She snatched her boots off the counter, and marched off. I looked, shocked, at the father. He looked back at me. "Little Miss Attitude," he said, and I think he was embarrassed.
I can't help but compare those two teenagers, the red haired boy and little Miss Attitude. The only thing that they had in common was their ages.
The good news is that I think that this cold is finally winding down. I'm as glad for that as I can be, but I do have to say, I would have preferred that the thing did not begin to break up while I was running a register at work.
It is Brianna's birthday today, and as I worked, I prayed that she have a good day. When I got home, I called her, and it sounded like she did. We talked about baby names. If it is a girl, they are considering my middle name. I snuffled some more, but it wasn't just the cold.
I'm headed to bed with a good healthy dose of nightime cold medicine. Hopefully, I'll feel better in the morning. Lordy. Don't think I can feel any worse.