My weekend included a little bit of shopping that resulted in a couple of interesting observations.  Now, I’m not a fan of shopping.  Grocery shopping is done strictly by the made-ahead list.  Go in, get what you need, and get out.  There’s no strolling the aisles, fellow-shipping with the fruits and vegetables, or seeking out the new item on the shelf.  Likewise, when shopping for clothes or household goods, I usually have something in mind ahead of time so that I have a good mindset of what I’m looking for.  If I don’t see it right away, I don’t dilly dally hunting for it.

On Friday, Amanda and I took a quick stroll of a couple local stores, looking for a few items for her apartment.  Now her apartment has tiled floors.  Perfect flooring for a wheelchair user.  Carpet can kink up and slow her down.  My concern is that her apartment might be cold and loud with the hard floors.  We both agreed that perhaps the right area rug in the living room might look great and warm things up.  We’d put it in front of the couch (where she wouldn’t be sitting anyways) and we’d be looking for one with a low pile so if she had to cross it, it would be easy to manuever.

At one particular store they had a wall with a rack of area rugs on rug hangers that you could shuffle through.

And there it was!

This beautiful rug.  Just the right size.  A reasonable price.  Dark brown with bright colorful flowers that we could use to pull colors from and add pillows to her couch to match.  I thought we should buy it.  But it would be big and heavy for me to carry.  In the back of my head I struggled also with the thought that making a big purchase like this meant that I was making one more step closer to committing to moving Amanda out.  Of course she is moving out Oct. 1st.  Of course I must still be scared.

No one else was going to buy that rug, I thought.  I decided to go home and sleep on it and bring Ted back the next day so HE could carry it.

We didn’t go back on Saturday.

On Sunday I went grocery shopping with my ready list.  As I efficiently worked my way through the store, finishing in the front by the produce, I overheard the following conversation.  A young boy, perhaps seven or eight years old, walked past the bin piled high with fresh green beans.  He stopped and quizzically picked up a bean between his thumb and index finger, like he was picking up some icky little thing.  He turned to his dad and asked, “What is this??”

Really?  Are you kidding me??

His father answered, “A green bean” and the boy just responded “Oh” and dropped the icky thing back on the pile.

What is wrong with our kids these days?  Are we not feeding them vegetables?  Or maybe all this boy got were cut green beans from a can, or green beans hidden under layers of mushroom soup and cheese in mystery casserole form.  He didn’t recognize a green bean!

Later Sunday I took Ted back to the store with the area rugs.  We shuffled through the heavy hangers, as I expected to recognize our perfect rug at the next turn … until I got to the end of the hangers … and realized it was gone!  Major bummer.

Next time, when I see it, and recognize it as the perfect thing, I am going to purchase it.

And I’m going to be sure to (some day) teach my grandchildren all about vegetables.

just Laurel