Sweetie, she called me. It is hard for me to tell the age of young women anymore, but I am guessing this cashier was all of 20. I was offended, but I said nothing as I slid my credit card in the reader to pay for the groceries, politely thanked the bubble gum popping clerk, and grumped all the way home.
She had no idea of how offended I was.
In Texas, everybody is sweetie and darlin’, but usually the flow goes from elder to younger. And I have become what I have always despised. A cranky old man.
But I made it home with bags and bags of swag, and that brightened my day considerably. Nice gray curtains now frame my window, a tan comforter matches my reading rocker, a shoe tree sits by my computer so that I don’t have a pile of shoes under my desk.
And the sun rises, and the plants get precious water, and the sun burned but patchy grass gets mowed, and I bite the heads off of dissenters in my chat room.
Life is good!