Jean Croker Petke

Going for the Gold

Going for the Gold

Please forgive my lack of posting last week. My internet died for several days so posting could not happen.

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The Boy (4 1/2 year old grandson) and his mother are coming for a week. I’ve been busy cleaning, stocking the larder, planning menus, and clearing my calendar for their visit.

I’ve made several trips to Kroger this week to stock up. I found a gold bouncy ball that I thought The Boy would especially enjoy. He can never have too many balls, so a new one is always welcome.

While I was carrying the ball through the store, a Kroger employee stopped me. “I know you’re buying that ball for yourself,” he began, “you’re going to tell me it’s for your grandchild, but I know it’s really for you.”

“It really is for my grandson,” I replied. “He’s coming this afternoon.”

The man nodded with a look of “sure, just as I thought. It’s really for you.”

We parted ways. I continued walking through the store searching for a couple obscure items.

What I really wanted to do was run up and down the aisles bouncing the gold ball. I had on my bright purple shirt, flashy earrings, and fuschia toenails. My grey hair that was a bit unkempt. What a sight I would have been dodging people and buggies and rounding the aisle ends!

Customers would look around, wondering where my mother was. They would cluck their tongues. Their faces would shoot looks of scorn and judgment.

I’d look at them and want to ask, “Did you see how fast I can run? Did you see me turn at the end of the aisles? Did you see how I zigzag around people — just like playing basketball?”

The customers won’t notice my skill and agility. They are too focused on rules and standards of behavior. No one should be allowed to run in a grocery store. Especially without supervision. They never allowed their children to do such a thing. Standards have certainly changed since they raised their kids!

One lady leaves her buggy in the aisle to go searching for a manager. Someone’s got to stop this running.

I actually bounced the ball a couple times in the pharmacy area just to make sure it would meet The Boy’s standards. Perfect. He will love it.

I’m sad that I stifled myself that morning. Every night since then, just as I’m falling asleep, I think about running those aisles bouncing the gold ball.

Perhaps I made the right decision.

Perhaps not.

Until next Tuesday . . .

One Comment - Leave a Comment
  • Linda Dingus -

    At our age we are allowed to bounce any where we wish. So next time bounce where ever you want to bounce.

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