Teaching Manners

On Monday, the skies were gray and the weather a bit chilly, so I decided to put on my "uniform" (aka, my comfortable clothes) and hoped the girls would be low maintenance. Yeah right!  They were very aware it was "Monday- Funday"!

I attempted to tantalize them with puzzles, coloring books, paints and legos to no avail.  Beaten down, I decided to switch things up quickly.  Hair brushed, shoes on, we all jumped into the car for a spontaneous outing.  But, where to go? I thought hard.  Not the zoo--way too much walking for this lazy day.  Ronald McDonald didn't appeal to me either.  Even in comfy clothes the idea of crawling up those brightly colored tubes to save a stuck child didn't entice me.   

 Before I reached the freeway, I had another idea....Lately, we had been working on our table manners.  Each daughter enjoyed the pleasantries of "please pass the bread" and "may I please be excused from the table"?  We had gone over the use of a napkin and how it was folded gently into one's lap.  I was confident that my daughters were ready to fly solo. "Hey, I know what we could do, girls, let's go to a real restaurant"!

Okay.  So, it was Monday, noon -- maybe not the best decision, but I proceeded naively not remembering what it was like (in my past life) to be on a designated lunch break with only a certain amount of time.  I moved quickly from my seat, closed the door and reached for the passenger door to help my daughters step onto the pavement.  With the door wide open, I encouraged the kids to hurry along.  Unknowingly, three nicely dressed business men were behind me waiting.  Annoyed, one of the men attempted to squeeze through the narrow channel while the other two turned and went to the other passenger door.  I wedged the girls closer to the car allowing him to pass, smiled and jokingly said, "Sorry, it takes a bit longer with my little crew."  Without a gesture or a nod of acknowledgment, he swiftly slid into the already revved car and left with his cohorts.

Since 'manners' was my theme for the day, I knelt down beside my daughters and explained the importance of patience with all people in the world (and especially women with children!).

Taking our place inside the restaurant and reminding them of all the basic manners to remember we ordered our lunches. Our napkins were folded in our laps as were our hands.  "May I please have a grilled cheese sandwich with white bread?  Thank you."  "May I please have chicken nuggets, but no spicy sauce?  Thank you."  Well, that went well, I smiled proudly. Thankfully a coloring book was provided for the wait.  I quietly continued the lesson reminding each to stop their coloring project and thank the waitress when our lunch was served.   

Looking across the restaurant I saw a table where four women sat.  It didn't appear they were friends.  No one spoke.  Two looked off, bored, one was wildly texting. The fourth, however, smiled as she watched my girls color in their books.  We made eye contact and I returned a smile.  My imagination went into high gear as I pictured her as a mom longing to be at home with her children.  What she didn't know, I thought, is that there are days I would gladly switch places. 

I turned my attention back to my table just in time to see our waitress advance with our tray of delicious food.  The girls dropped their crayons, sat up straight and in unison said "Thank you!"  The waitress dropped down to their level and complimented each for using such good manners.  They smiled broadly--"Mom said we had to", the younger one blurted as she reached for a nugget.  The waitress looked my way as she got up to move on, "It doesn't happen often, you should be proud of them, ma’am."  The meal was a success; no spilled milk, no outbursts, and lunch hungrily devoured.  There is no doubt in my mind -- I am here for a purpose -- today, at least!

Integrity - Get Some!

My husband and I made the decision early on in our junk-dealing career that we would not charge our patrons who served in the military, fought crime in our communities or put out fires.  It was our personal way of saying thank you.  Sometimes the decision pinched our pocketbook, but we were always happy to pay it forward.  The other day we inherited a brand new top of the line carpet cleaner.  I was excited!  It was an easy sell on Craigslist and I envisioned the crisp $100 bill that would be placed into my hand.   

On the day I listed the carpet cleaner I got tons of calls!  Sweet, I thought!  A $100 day!  The first call was from a young guy.  We made quick introductions and he mentioned he was in the Navy.  Upon arrival, he took a look at the carpet cleaner, rubbed his chin and confessed he was only interested in the hose attachment kit.  Without hesitation, I unleashed it from the handle and as I handed it to him I said "My husband and I would like you to have this at no charge and thank you for all you do for us..."  He gratefully accepted and went on his way. 

Later that day a friendly older couple came to see the carpet cleaner.  By that time, I had uploaded a lower price as the hose attachment was not included--"Brand new Carpet Cleaner--$75!  They introduced themselves as Al and Sadie and we visited for several minutes as they inspected their prospective purchase.  Pleased with the condition, they handed me a wad of bills.  I tucked it in my pocket, we said our good byes and I headed back into the house to answer the ringing telephone and pull my girls apart from a squabble over whose Barbie doll was going to ride in the pink sports car.  With both issues quickly settled, I opened my hand to count the bills.  Uh-oh!  I had five 20s!  $100!  I checked out the window but their car was gone.  I called the phone number they had used when they first called to inquire -- dang, it was their home phone!  I left a message explaining that they had overpaid and asked them to please call so that we could arrange a time for them to pick up their change. 

The following day I received a phone call from my new friend, Al.  He thanked me for the carpet cleaner, said he and his wife had used it that day and didn't hear my message until the following morning. (Older folks, I've learned, don't check their voice mail as often as we do!)  He wanted to let me know he was pleased with it but that his real reason for calling was to thank me for having the integrity to call him about the overpayment.  He went on and on about 'back in the day' and 'how it used to be' and over-joyfully exclaimed that my action restored a lost faith he had had for the future of our children.  He said he knew that if there were more parents 'out there' like us things would be fine, just fine, he said.   Once again, we said our good byes, this time with my mind exploring his words.  Hmmm....in-teg-rity....I thought of all my recent encounters with the people in my life....integrity----got some?

Is the Sludge Good for the Marriage?

At our wedding, my brother-in-law gave the most amazing 8-page speech. He spoke of their childhood and all the fond memories he has of his big brother.  He said quite a few things (most of which went over my head), but one item he touched on stuck out in my mind. He spoke of the wires that one day may string from room to room in search of a more efficient home. And the potential “experiments” that may one day take over my kitchen. I laughed, thinking this was a funny joke and gazed on at my groom with dreamy eyes.

When we met, he lived downtown in a condo. In his bathroom he brewed small amounts of beer, but that was painless, right? He had one tool box, a car that worked and fewer clothes than me … This would be a match in heaven.

Who would have thought that our 2400 square foot home could be filled so quickly? I remember moving in and thinking who could fill all this space? Who would have thought that the enchanted rose garden would have been transformed into an edible garden? And who would have thought the small, gas friendly cars would transform to large diesels running on bio-fuels?!

I try to gloat about the bio-fuels. I like to tell people that the emissions are far better for the environment. I keep waiting for someone to ask, “But is the sludge good for the marriage?”

I most often love the comment: “Gosh, smells like french fries when you start your car!” Or, even better when someone asks, “After I fry this turkey, can I dump my oil in your tank?”

The jokes keep coming and I keep smiling. I love my husband, I do .. but I think there may have been more to my brother-in-law's 8-page speech than I understood!

A Perpetual Garage Sale

As a high school student, I loved garage sales.  I had this crazy friend who was just like me.  If we spent Friday night together (which was more often than not) we’d get up at the crack of dawn, throw on clothes which we had purchased the week before from someone’s driveway, and head off for the local Circle K for a fresh cup of cinnamon coffee.  Armed with our hard earned money from babysitting jobs, part time pizza parlor stints and a buck or two snatched from my mom’s wallet, we’d head off in one of our almost-working cars to follow the signs to Saturday’s treasure troves.

Time, time, time, what has become of me?....As much as I would love to spend my Saturdays cruising from one sale to the next, my life has pulled me in a most interesting direction.  In many ways, I am living in a perpetual garage sale! 

I’ve never actually initiated having a garage sale.  With working full time, then staying home with my daughters, and adding  the hauling business on to my repertoire the very last thing I wanted to do was greet the 5 A-Mers to haggle over the price of a lamp shade.   But I will participate!  Any time a neighbor asks if I’d like to add to their sale, I pull open the garage door and swiftly move through the collection and select choice pieces.  I do it for a couple of reasons: (1) I really like garage sales!  They are so American ... When else do we sit in the cul-de-sac and visit with neighbors over morning coffee?  And (2)  I do it to clear a path in my garage.  Afterward, I feel so cleansed, so orderly!  I sweep the cleared space and reclaim it for silly stuff like laundry baskets and Costco bulk!  I’ve learned this is just part of a cycle that will repeat itself several times a year.  Stuff appears, crowding my way--I reorganize, shuffle, sell—Then, stuff reappears crowding my way and the cycle begins again.  I’m an optimist, though…I’m certain this is just a phase.   I close my eyes, click the heels of my shiny red shoes and dreamily say….there’s no place like home….

Not long ago I learned that our neighborhood was scheduled to have the “famous” annual HOA garage sale.  To faithful garage sale-ers this is The Big One.  It attracts thousands of people! Some people will have traditional garage sales—others will sell hot dogs and sodas.  Crafters work all year long and set up their table of colorful wares in their yard.  Some come out from behind their front doors with patio chairs just to watch the spectacle!  

Excitedly I began to prepare.   Dishes were stacked in one section, furniture in another, clothes out front—people love to go through other’s closets!  Ceramic pots for gardening, kids’ toys and books—all neatly stacked and priced to sell! Certainly I don't want any of this to make its way back in the house or garage! It took only a couple of days.  And, the garage never looked better!  Boasting, I even left the garage door open for a few minutes for my across the street neighbor to see!  You can never be too proud (even if it is only a small victory)! 

The sale was a success!  We had a great day milling in and out of each other’s yards.  By the day’s end we were beat and a few dollars richer!  As the sun disappeared behind the mountain, I gathered up my kids, said our good nights to the neighbors and headed upstairs for evening bath time.  The girls happily splashed as I sipped a much deserved cocktail.  In the distance I heard the low muffle of the hauling truck lumbering up the street and glanced out….the sides of the truck were bulging! I clicked my heels and silently repeated…there’s no place like home…there’s no place like home.