Something's Very Wrong

Ah, people. Standing in line at the bookstore the other day, I was fortunate enough to be privy to the observations the clerk was loudly sharing with the customer ahead of me.

"What a darling little girl!" she said, indicating the tiny blonde toddler waiting patiently beside her mother's leg.

"Thank you," replied the customer.

"And so well-behaved!" gushed the clerk.

A smile from the mother, as she handed over her credit card.

"Let me tell you," the kindly employee continued, "I see all kinds! Why, yesterday there was this little boy in here...it was unbelievable. And I've seen a lot in my time. I've done this for years and I've never seen a child like him. Unbelievable. I mean, there was something very wrong with this little boy! He had his feet on the books. I had to ask him to get his feet off the books. He was walking on the piles of books! Something was very wrong with this boy. And his mother! She had no control over him!"

"Hmm, that's too bad," murmured the mother, now taking her leave.

Lucky me. Now it was my turn.

I could only think of the Saturday prior, when at a nearby furniture store my own little boy felt inclined to run the length of the armchair section -- on the armchairs. But I also thought of the many times I've made snap judgments about the behavior of other children. And their mothers.

I don't know what was more troubling to me...the bookstore employee's public tirade or the times I've indignantly had the same opinions in the privacy of my mind. Another lesson to ponder, courtesy of the Tuesday Machine.