Upon embarking on the the third day of a family road trip, we stop at a Starbucks for sustenance and a cup of courage to continue on.
I’m tired-defeated after spending 2 entire days in a 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 position while my two-year-old son kicks the back of my seat, repeatedly. As we gather our drinks and walk out the door, my son decides not to heed my stern warning to not run out into the drive-thru line of cars.
I yell. Loudly.
I grab him and pull him out of the parking lot, not without missing the woman looking directly at me and whispering something to her husband.
Not now, lady. I don’t have room for your energy.
We arrive at our car, my husband carrying a tray of drinks in on one arm and our son (no longer a danger to himself and everyone around him) in the other. We were just about to continue on our way, when my daughter announces that her blue cake pop is not in the bag.
I trudge back inside alone and wait for the cake pop that I have now requested for a second time when the lady approaches me.
Yep. That lady.
“Excuse me, I have to tell you..
(What you got? I 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬. I’m the worst. I screamed at my kid and grabbed him him by the hoodie. Go ahead and reprimand me - but make it quick, we have 12 more hours to drive)
“Those babies! They are absolutely precious - especially that little one that ran out in the street. I even whispered to my husband, “oh my god, I want to take that little guy home... oh! And I love your outfit! Y’all have a blessed day.”
A grin escapes from my masked lips.
I thank the lady for her kindness and show her where to pull her car around so I could load in my son.
We laugh together for a moment and then I head back to my family.
I always jump to a negative conclusion. Every time.
Things aren’t always as they seem.
On the road again. . .