After puttering around the house and getting little accomplished, I went out for a walk this afternoon, in the warm windy grey. An old man of about my father's age approached, walking a dog of similar years, both of them wearing little white beards. The man looked at me as I passed, and offered a kind "hello". The first words spoken to me all day.
The next came from a couple of adolescent girls who stood in the parking lot of a small apartment building. As I passed them, one was squatting, looking at the ground, and talking to someone on the phone, oddly. They seemed somewhat childish, but old enough to mind their own business, and I passed them without making any contact as I turned away to cross the street. It's a quiet part of town, and I assumed that when I heard one of them ask "Are you a soccer mom?" she was talking to someone else. "Hey, are you a soccer mom?". I turned back as I kept walking. The tone wasn't unkind, but the question itself was questionable. No, I said, I'm not a mom at all, sorry...and walked off.
I wish I'd had a better answer, but my head is in a fog today. Instead of having something smart and friendly to offer in return, I carried on the next leg of my walkabout with a heart just slightly heavier, wondering how a woman old enough to be a soccer mom (and look like one, apparently) could feel put down by a a twelve year old--and pondering why, on a day like this one, these were the words the Universe had to offer to my lonely ears.
Of all the things I would have liked to hear today, that I cannot say to myself...
"Hey, are you a soccer mom?"
Nope, I'm not, thankfully, but I do appreciate the fashion advice.
So it goes...Yesterday was pleasant, serendipitous, even sweet; perhaps tomorrow will be, too. Perhaps.
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