Bad Mood…Not When You Got Love!

Sometimes we don’t know we are in a bad mood until we’re made aware of it.

I was muttering and complaining yesterday as I trudged to the car through the rain, wearing my pajama bottoms, and my husband’s ratty jacket with the hood over my head… I fussed as I walked, hugging my purse to my chest.

I didn’t want to go to the store. I had fought it all morning, but laundry doesn’t do itself and I needed some detergent.

I also wanted some chicken, but since a whole chicken is about the price of a used car, I was just gonna look at the chicken and tell it I missed it and would maybe see it one fine day.

(I boycott every food that has a big, fast price increase….it’s part of my personality to fight things like this……I still think potatoes should be ten cents a pound, and I am not backing down on that…!)

Anyway, the cart I am pushing is wet. My phone has died, I am cold and damp, and I forgot my debit card so now I have to give these rip off artists my only cash.

(I know they are not rip off artists, it’s just that I was in a bad mood; the employees there know me. They accept me when I go in there in some weird state, with my hair sticking up, paint all over me or dragging a kid who is sobbing “I wanna stay in the car, I wanna stay in the car!!”)

Suddenly, while holding and caressing a nine pound roast and having some bittersweet memories of carrots, potatoes and onions of days gone by, I heard laughter.

I don’t mean just laughter; I mean big, boisterous, adult laughter…..

I stopped and stared. I was prepared to roll my eyes, shake my head and say something hateful under my breath, maybe “crack heads”.

I saw a man and woman coming toward me. They had walked through the rain and were soaking wet. They looked to be in their mid thirties or early forties.

When they walked in, their shoes squeaked on the floor. It was very loud and they got tickled. They held hands, laughing, and squeaked their shoes on purpose, twisting their way to the produce department. In fact, sometimes they were skipping. The joy in their faces was apparent. They would look at each other, and just laugh and laugh.

One of the employees said to me, “Would you believe that couple has been married for twelve years? They are like this all the time, always laughing about something! They haven’t got a pot or a window, but they are always happy. They lost their little girl to cancer a few years ago… they have had it hard…but they sure do love each other. We enjoy it when they come in.”

Suddenly, I felt a little ashamed of myself and my mood. I didn’t want a chicken any more. The left over spaghetti would be fine.

I watched this sweet couple for a while. They came to the checkout counter, laughing and chattering to each other, with a tub of Country Crock margarine.

I had to say something, so I said “You two are squeaking so loud, you can’t possibly get lost…we WOULD be able to find you…”

They both cracked up. The husband said, “We got us a big tub of Country Crock, we got us some wet, squeaky shoes, and we got us each other. It’s a good day!!”

I actually got a tear in my eye as I watched them get in an old, ratty truck that coughed and wheezed, but started , pet the dog they had with them, and drive off… smiling.

They both waved at me as they drove off….he even rolled down his window and said, “God bless you, have a great day!”

I thought for a second about the good life I have. I have a car that doesn’t cough and wheeze. I have food in the kitchen and clothes in a closet. I have a decent roof over my head. I have a husband that is about as perfect as a husband can be….

I have a fairly healthy family and three silly dogs, and I have coffee in a pot and furniture to sit on, and……all of a sudden, laundry doesn’t seem so bad.

Yet, here I am griping, complaining, sulking, and whining, as I fill a cart with cleaning supplies and groceries.

I do remember the day when being able to afford a tub of margarine made me happy….those days are over, but they could happen again, any time.

I went home, where my husband helped me carry the groceries into the kitchen and put them away.

When we were finished, I hugged him really tight and said “Thank you…..”

“For what?” he asked.

“Awww…..just thank you..When your foot gets better, will you skip through a grocery store with me?”

“Sure, I will!!” My husband smiled.

Yeah, life is just fine at Wit’s End…..