Saturday, May 17, 2014

Mother's Day

Saturday(day before Mother's Day) I had been fighting the onslaught of grass pollen season as it warms up and trees wane and weeds begin to heat up a bit too. Not sleeping much at night. Being horizontal resulting in coughing. The four of us went to the grocery store. Not many shoppers, but two that I noticed right off. The woman, 70ish, white hair, pushing the cart, whispering to the boy, then fussing at him. The boy, actually a man 25-30ish, hers, but still her boy. He wore camo pants, combat boots, black tshirt, hat, and multiple items that I will call knife holsters. The knife holsters were clearly filled with knives. More knives than a person needs for a trip to the grocery store. I didn't see any guns. That was some reassurance. Boy and mother argued. He removed things from her basket, explaining to her in detail why she should not purchase this or that item. 

We headed for the dairy section. I circled back for a forgotten item and spotted the boy/man unrolling a sheath of plastic produce bags down the length of the canned goods aisle floor and then purposefully rearranging the canned goods. 

I met Melanoma Man, Butter, and imac at the checkout. I stopped to speak with the manager on my way out. There were so few shoppers, others may not have noticed. I explained about the knives, the produce bags, the reordering of canned goods and said I had seen no violence, but perhaps a tad too many knives. I suggested the manager might want to look into it and exited the store as calmly as I entered.

It was no coincidence that it was the day before Mother's Day. It was a reminder to me of what my mother endured in the mothering of her first child, He Who Must Not Be Named,' our very own Dark Lord. I wonder how she managed and how the three of us that followed managed. But managed we did and manage we do.

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