The local fabric store on Saturday is a lot like the DMV on most days, filled with number calling and long waits, but without chairs. This was my second time braving the store on such a day. With the knowledge of my previous experience, I grabbed a number before I even picked out my fabric. Luckily for me someone had bailed out early and left their number on the counter, 55 (they were currently calling in the late 20s). Otherwise my number would have been in the late 60s. After much debate over which fabric to purchase, and a short chat with a friend I bumped into, I picked out my fabric and returned to the number machine. Secretly, I was hoping for another bailout number, but what I found was much more rewarding.
He looked so out of place, like a scruffy puppy in among cougars. His daughter was either on the way to the land of nod, or just coming back. I felt a call to action as if I had just watched a Sara Mclachlan ad.
However, I didn't know what to do. Since he was at the cutting area before me, I assumed his number was ahead of mine. We were in the early 40s by now. I thought about offering to get a cart for his girl to lay in, but soon realized I wouldn't be able to get a cart without leaving the store and I didn't want to loose my fabric bolts. Finally, I spoke up,"What's your number?" The lamest pick-up line out of context. Surprised to see someone talking to him he looked down at the paper tag her was clutching, "Uh, 75" We exchanged sympathetic looks. Then I offered him some words of encouragement, "Well, you're in the right place sometimes people leave numbers when they've had enough of waiting in line." He was grateful for the pro tip and then we chatted about his cute little girl to pass the time.
In the half hour or so that I stood there two people mistook me for an employee, but no one dropped off low numbers. By this time, I wanted a new number more for the dad than for myself. My kids were at home having fun with their dad, I could wait there all day if I really had to. My mommy senses were tingling and telling me that his little girl didn't have much quiet left. That's when I got the idea to be her mommy too.
Now, I was the one holding the low number. I offered to cut his fabric with mine when my number was called. I'm sure we were both giggling a little inside when the older ladies cutting fabric started making small talk about "our" cute little girl (who happened to start fussing at that moment, a mom knows what she knows).He was very grateful for my kindness. I was really very happy to help.
I had positioned myself in the cutting area to my greatest advantage, with the best view of the number dispenser. I was hoping to get a lower number and get myself out of there fast. What I got instead was an opportunity to serve my neighbor and experience the great feeling that comes along with doing what is right. A feeling that has lasted me longer than finding a lower number.
I ran a 5k, which you can read about on my weight loss blog. My baby turned 2. We celebrated with a grand party this year to make up for the lack of party last year. Asher's Birthday Celebration an ABC party. I planned to have a spring baby so that we could have birthday parties outside (among other things), so of course the night of his party we were hit with possible tornado producing thunderstorms. The large party was moved inside our little home, but was still a success.
