It is time… you have to think of Thanks.
But, this year I am REALLY thinking about Thanks.
I wonder how I often I say it without a thought. I wonder how often I say it with an overflowing heart.
“Thanks!” (… I needed that breath mint.)
“Thanks!”(…for not arresting him, again.)
“Thanks!”(… I hate you.)
“Thanks!” (… I didn’t even realize I was a kid short?)
As I composed this in the HEB parking lot, I did so with malice in my heart. I have a pet peeve, and my stance on it will probably get me pummeled one day. It has gotten me yelled at, and profanity lobbed at me. But I continue to take my steady posture.
It brings out the snarky in me. It makes me take stock of the real Jami.
There is a Jami, with her screaming vandals and $300.00 in groceries, that will let you go in the checkout line in front of her because you have fewer items in your basket. I want you to go ahead of me. I can hold off the vandals with a sucker from the display.
There is the Jami that let you have the last frozen, gluten-free pie crust. I want you to have it. I will ready one from scratch. It is the season to be generous, please, go ahead.
There is the Jami, who helps the lady in motorized scooter reach the jar of Nutella on the top shelf. Truly, what human wouldn’t help out another human in need of Nutella?
And then there is this Jami. Typing a blog post on thankfulness, in her car. She opened a bag of Oreos to placate the vandals. She turned on “Monsters Inc.” to amuse them. And she did all of it so you can’t have her parking space.
You heard me.
You are an able bodied man. I am in the 20th place in the back 40 of this enormous grocery store parking lot. And yes, I saw you sitting there while I unloaded groceries. I saw your irritated impatience as I wrestled my screaming babies. And yes, I am parked on an incline and yes, I was using one foot to keep my overloaded basket from rolling away. I am a master of multi-tasking. And I can hurry when I need to, but I won’t hurry for you.
Your music is too loud. Your truck is too tall. You’re blocking traffic three cars deep, waiting for me to finish that which I desperately want to be over; Thanksgiving feast shopping with these two angry, sticky, crying toddlers. And I will not accommodate you. Park somewhere else.
I am thankful that you are not the boss of me. I am thankful I married a gentleman. I am thankful the Oreos were in plain sight. I am thankful the shopping is all done. I am thankful there are people at home to unload these groceries for me.
I am thankful I thought to grab a diet coke at checkout, I am über thankful my diet coke is a little frozen, I love the icy part floating on top. Bonus. I am most thankful that the person sitting behind you for the last ten minutes will have this parking space. And I am thankful you will not.
This morning, while shaving my legs, I did that thing with a new razor where you cut all the flesh off your ankle, and you can actually see the bone? I fashioned a tourniquet out of one of my mom’s guest towels; I bled all the way through it. This occurrence is something I know most women reading this will cringe at the memory of.
It is one of womenhood’s more painful rites of passage. It takes months to heal. I think women want to acknowledge the pain associated with this type of shaving injury. We all bear the scar. You can’t get through efficient hair removal in this lifetime without once scalping your ankle bone. I don’t know if there is a major artery on the ankle bone, but it bleeds like you amputated your foot. And it will ruin the bath mat, and it will dictate which shoes I wear for the next three weeks. I am 44 years old; I have to have done this to my ankle at least a dozen times in my life, do I even have hair follicles on my ankle any longer? Surely I can just not shave there ever again? But, I do. And it hurts.
You know, I didn’t know when or where I would appropriately fit this excruciating shaving topic into a blog, and then you sir, sat and waited for my parking spot. You were rude. You were arrogant. You are a bonehead.
May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained! Love, Jami
“Give thanks in everything!” 1Thessalonians 5:18