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Saturday, October 15, 2005Hobby Lobby Was a BustI just didn't think this one through. Under normal circumstances, the distance from a parked car to the entrance of a store isn't something that affects my life in a substantial way -- unless it's raining heavily or sporting a temperature under 30 degrees. Two weeks after a traumatic rib injury, however, the distance from a parked car to the entrance of a store is enough to render me about as energetic as an eighty-seven year old woman. With a new hip replacement. And arthritis. After standing by the shopping carts and catching my breath, I made the singularly feisty decision that I would not, indeed, need to use the kraft-o-matic customer buggy that was parked there. No, I would walk, holding tenderly onto my husband's arm. Never have I walked so slowly in Hobby Lobby. I've got that store memorized. I usually fly around like a rabid dragonfly, buzzing from aisle to aisle in search of whatever it is that I'm obsessing over at the time. Not last night. Last night, it was the elderly shuffle. And since Eric didn't know where he was going, I had to patiently tell him which way to go, aisle by aisle. It was excrutiating. By the time we got to where I wanted to go, which was naturally all the way in the back along the right wall, I was ready for another ambulance ride. I was completely worn out. I was aching. I felt like my torso was imploding -- or maybe just made of Styrofoam. I had to sit down on a low shelf in the middle of the candle-making materials. (No, I don't make candles. It was just the closest low shelf I could find.) All that, and they didn't have what I had come for. I found a couple of Christmas presents, though, so it wasn't a complete loss. Eric wanted me to go out and wait for him in the car while he paid, but I waited for him in the vestibule, hanging on to a table and trying not to look as though I were going to fall over. Then, we shuffled out to the car and I settled gratefully into the front seat. I felt completely spent -- as though I had just shopped for six hours instead of twenty-five minutes. It was ridiculous. And disheartening. We were going to grab a bite to eat at our favorite sandwich shop (fresh mozzarella sandwiches with tomatoes and basil -- to die for). Eric wondered if I would be able to sit on one of the metal chairs. "I don't know." "Maybe we could go get that wonderful scallop appetizer at Beethoven's. They have soft chairs in there." "It'll be loud, though." "No, it's not loud in there." "I don't know." "Should I just run in and get our sandwich at Bread and Company?" "I don't know." I wasn't feeling very decisive. Actually, I just didn't want to spoil our date by admitting that there was no possible way that I could handle sitting in a chair -- soft, metal, or otherwise -- in any restaurant, anywhere. My darling husband bought our dinner while I waited in the car. Then he stopped for a bottle of white wine (while I waited in the car). When we got home, he directed me to the sofa while he prepared the food on two pretty, glass plates, and poured the wine. Amazing. Even when I'm aging ten years every minute; even when I feel positively decrepit and out-of-sorts; even when I spoil a date by running out of steam -- he makes me feel like a princess. Hobby Lobby was a bust. But the man I married is a keeper. |
About Me
I am: Mother to five stunningly individualistic children... Writer of young adult fantasy... Passionate advocate for Women At Home... Madly in love with my husband... In need of Organic Gourmet Chocolate on a regular basis. I've got a Paypal account if you'd like to contribute to the cause....
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11of my readers are feeling chatty:
Thank God for the husband He gave you.
A note to Eric through your blog:
Good on ya mate!
Now back to whoever wants to read what I am writing:
This is one area in which I feel I do well. I had a wonderful mother who taught me from a very young age how to treat women.
Now that I have grown up myself, I have come to realize just how wise my mother was.
I feel that in many ways I am the small green and bumpy frog living quite happily alongside the Princess DramaMama of the royal court.
My mother taught me to treat women with dignity, and respect. I therefore endeavor to treat my wife as if she were the absolute queen of the universe.
She takes my warts and I bask in her beauty.
Once again to Eric:
Good on ya mate!
What a wonderful hubby! I hope you heal up soon. Even though it did not go as planned, it sounded as if your evening was memorable!
God had the mercy to give me the best! You are my princess, darling!
Eric (Jill's husband)
Dave, good on ya mate! Voting for you in the BExplosion trenches. We both will get our ratios fixed. :)
Eric rules. You pick 'em good Jill.
Dave, did our mom's know each other? :-)
Possibly, was her name Fran?
jk
You are blessed in many ways.
;)
Nah, it was Kay. It seems I was raised similarly.
Dave and Chench...
Y'all are weird.....
:)
awwwwwwww way to go Eric!
You know Jill what you described is how i feel when my COPD flares up! I walk slower then my 90 year old neighbor, just the act of getting out of the car makes me have to catch my breath uggg.
Hang in there girl, it will get better!
Do I have a good husband or what!?!
And I don't think he's a frog! LOL
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