Scrutinized

Saturday is errand-day at the Nut House, and even though DH did the grocery shopping on his way home from work on Friday, there were still a few odds and ends that needed to be acquired.

I volunteered to savor some "alone" time -um, I mean... pick up the items.

:)

First stop was the Thrift Store. Now I'll let you in on a little Nut House secret. I love going thrift store shopping. Chances are, the cute outfits you may see on me or my little peanuts were gotten for a steal at the thrift store. I have this uncanny ability to run my hands over the fabric of the shirts or pants and pull out the gap, gymboree or children's place clothing. And a lot of times, they are in almost new condition. And if it happens to be a 50% off weekend? I'm in heaven.

So, it was off to the thrift store I went, on a very specific mission to buy soccer shorts for Action Man and Little Boo.

As I made my way to the back of the store, I was greeted by a fairly well-dressed young man. I smiled, said hello, and moved on. He followed me and asked me what I did for a living. I gave him a puzzled look, wondering why he wanted to know, and he apologized and explained that he was with (insert name of polling company here) and was recruiting people. I simply said that I have no time for that sort of thing, to which he replied, looking me up and down... You have no time? Nope! I said cheerfully and brushed past him.

He and his colleague exited the store, and I was left to ponder the exchange. I came to the conclusion that he must have thought I was a welfare mom who needed to work. I mean, I'm looking at children's clothing in a thrift store. I wasn't dressed like I had tons of money (it's Saturday, folks!) And no, I don't have tons of money anyway.... but I didn't like the uneasy feeling of having been judged, and judged wrongly. How could I explain in one sentence what my life is? That my husband works hard, makes decent money, but that we need to cut corners so I can stay home and homeschool? Is it really any of his business anyway?

This brief glimpse of me that he had was completely insufficient for him to make any sort of judgement.

Flustered by the exchange and frustrated by the fact that this particular thrift store had absolutely no shorts at all, I left, crossed the parking lot, and went to the other thrift store.

I found black soccer shorts for both kids quickly, and went up to the counter to pay. I handed the guy a $20, and was given back a handful of change.

Ummm. I looked at the receipt. He had punched in that I had given him $5. I pointed out his mistake, and he looked me over carefully. I insisted I wasn't lying, that I had really given him $20, and that I would leave my phone number if he came up $15 short that night. He said, no, I trust you... but then would trail off, fingering the $5's. I insisted again that I would leave my phone number, but he shook his head and reluctantly gave me the $15 and turned to deal with a customer who wanted a discount on a blanket.

Judged wrongly, again.

When I phoned DH on the way home (because, yes, I am really just that fragile) he pointed out that the guy probably wanted to pocket the money himself! I said, no-no, I don't think so. And he told me that if anything I should be mad. I was falsely accused. It's not up to me to tell the guy: I am now. giving. you. a. twen.ty. I laughed and we hung up.

But the thought remained... it was a longing, even. I wanted to somehow condense my entire faith-filled life into a zip-file and insert it into that man's brain, so he could clearly see where I was coming from. I wanted him to understand that it would be absurd on so many levels for me to try to steal from the Salvation Army, but also to explain why I could not afford to give them a $15 donation right now.

I have always assumed the best in people. I still am taken a-back when they do not do the same for me. My tough NY-attitude has softened with the years... now that I am a mother and a southerner. I smile more and relate more. I try to bridge gaps, not create them.

And that has made me vulnerable, and I never even noticed.