Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Hmph! (03/04/10)
TITLE: I Know What You're Thinking
By Dianne Janak
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
Did he notice I was didn’t wear a seatbelt for thirty seconds after leaving my driveway? I had to put on my lipstick first, because I’m told I look expired without it. I have nice friends.
Did he know I didn’t give to the policeman’s ball in 1994? Is he even a cop? All sirens look threatening to me.
Did he see me scowl at that really old lady for driving so slow? Secretly, I despise old people driving. It’s time we erase the stereotype by putting some pedal to the medal. So I scowled, and she was too focused on the road to notice.
I am so guilty of bad, awful and mean thoughts. What if that cop can read my mind?
Well, to be honest, it’s not just cops. Regular people stared me yesterday after viewing our grandson’s swollen black eye who fell off the slide the day before. Their dad had them, and unless you have taken three three- year- olds to the park on a pretty day, don’t even go there. Newsflash: Not all black eyes are purposely initiated by mean-minded people.
So I attempted to look educated, sophisticated, and non-violent, and then worried if I’d got my lipstick on straight. Crooked lipstick may be a dead-give away that we could be closet abusers.
Once I forgot there was something in the bottom of my grocery cart that the checker didn’t scan. I just knew she thought that I was pulling a fast one on her. I could swear over a dollar bill she gave me the “look.” So I tried to feign premature senility. “Feign” being the operative word here. Take note.
If I wanted to steal something I would like to think it would NOT be IAMS dog food, but something a little more practical.
Why do I still think the preacher’s always talking to me personally? That my husband must have called him in the wee hours of Sunday morning and bribed him to change his sermon to “submission” and being a servant starts at home?
Why do I still want to please Aunt Mabel who rolled her eyes in the 60’s when I wore my black armband to the Thanksgiving Dinner? She still treats me like an aging hippie, and I swear I never burned a bra.
All in all I’m a pleasantly well-rounded ( literally) peaceful sort of woman. I don’t make waves. I don’t win contests. I encourage all the winner types around me, and yet I feel guilty. If something is wrong in the atmosphere, I need to fix it, correct it, apologize for it, rescue whomever is in trouble, and make peace where I have no business having an opinion, much less meddling.
That’s about it in a nutshell.
If you want to put something on my tombstone that sets me apart, just write… “poor thing she tried, you have to give her that.”
So before I mess up, and you start giving me grief about it, let me please tell you, “I’m so sorry for whatever it was, whenever I did it or didn’t do it, and if you will forgive me, I’ll pay."
I bake a great peach pie if you like them burnt.
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