Monthly Archives: December 2012
“It’s what you are, you know,” she said.
He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am, I am.”
He paused, then licked his suddenly dry lips. “I…” He had to clear his throat slightly. “I am a dirty little slut.”
Another rapid dart of tongue over lips. “What else, Ma’am?”
Her voice was implacable. “What else are you, slut?”
“Um… I am your dirty little slut, Ma’am.”
He heard her laugh. “Well, yes, I think that’s rather obvious, but I think you’re considerably more than a dirty little slut, too, aren’t you?”
He shifted on the stool upon which he sat, and was reminded again of the plug in his ass. His cock throbbed, too, and another drop of pre-cum slipped out, and his downcast eyes watched. “Yes, Ma’am.”
He hesitated and there was a sharp slap of a crop on his ass, making him jump, reminding him again of the plug, and making his cock throb again. “I am a greedy little bitch.” Before the crop came down again, he amended. “I am YOUR greedy little bitch, Ma’am.”
Her fingers closed around the shaft of his cock, squeezing, another drop of liquid oozing out. “Whose cock is this?”
That, at least, was easy. “Your cock, Ma’am.”
“So you’re a dirty little slut and a greedy little bitch, we know that. What part of you in particular is greedy?”
He felt himself blush. “My ass is greedy, Ma’am.”
“And what makes it greedy?”
“It’s greedy because… Because it likes to be filled, stretched open.” He took a breath, then added, “Ma’am.”
“Do you feel it now, all stretched open, filled and plugged?”
He nodded, mutely, and was rewarded with a sharp swat on his – no, not his, her cock. He gasped.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes, Ma’am, I feel it.”
“Tell me how it feels.”
He closed his eyes, grateful that he wasn’t allowed to meet her gaze. “It feels… good, Ma’am. Full and stretched open and reminded that you own my ass, too.”
She leaned over and he smelled her perfume, watched as her pointed red nail traced down the length of the shaft of her cock, then ran her finger over the slit, gathering up a few drops of the liquid. She held it in front of his face, letting him see it.
He started to nod, then said, “Yes, Ma’am, I am.”
“Why are you dripping?”
“Because it’s what dirty little sluts and greedy little whores do, Ma’am. They drip.”
“And how do they clean up this kind of perverted drooling?”
“They,,, They lick it up, Ma’am.”
She moved the finger to his mouth. “Lick it clean, slut.”
Obediently, he licked at the finger until it was clean, tasting himself. Tasting her cock.
“What does that taste like,” she asked.
He lowered his head. “It tastes like a dirty little slut, Ma’am.” He paused. “Or a greedy little bitch, Ma’am.”
She nodded, and cupped his cheek stroking it three times. Then she slapped the cheek, just enough to sting.
“Just as I thought,” she said.
Fa la la la la, la la la la…
It is passing fast away, isn’t it?
It’s the eve of the eve of the very last day of 2012.
I’ve been speculating, as we all have, on the upcoming year.
This will mark the 100th year since my mother’s birth.
I’ll be judging at least one international contest this year, possibly two, and that’s both gratifying and a little intimidating.
I want to do some organizing, lighten my physical load. I have some kitchen cabinets to clean out, spices and oils. I’ve actually cleaned out my main pantries over the last few months and kept them tidy, but there’s more to come.
I actually did a quick cleanup of that fabled hall closet today, looking for something I didn’t find anyway. It’s not good, but it’s better. I need to pull everything out and put it all back in order.
I have a bedroom closet that needs to be tidied so the upper portion can be better used.
I need to get some things in my basement under better control, sort and organize, tidy and consolidate.
The dining room is done, and that’s our big project for a while. We’d like to do a small renovation in the downstairs bathroom this year, but that’s not pressing. The carpet is wearing out, it needs to be replaced with tile or wood, wooden wainscoting, new paint, and a new sink, which we have. It’s not a big room, but it’s a big enough job I’m not sure we’ll do it this year.
We need to paint the kitchen, maybe a new color, something not so pale, perhaps.
I want to have Fringe Elements in a physical location before too many more weeks, and I think we’re close.
I want to go through photos, which aren’t terribly poorly organized, but I know there are multiple duplicates I need to delete.
I want to revamp and reorganize my presentations, as I said before.
I have some other goals, the kind of ones that I rarely set forth in anything but my own mind, we’ll see if those pan out.
And, as of this moment, there are 25 and one half hours left in 2012. And I plan to spend the next eight or so of them sleeping.
I’ve not felt very well for a couple of days, a stomach thing that was minor but didn’t feel minor, but I’m feeling closer to myself now, though still not 100%.
I’ve had a quiet couple of days, not doing much, not going anywhere, other than slave drew and I going out today to the mall. He wanted to look for something and I went along. I found a couple of things at good after-Christmas prices, so it was worthwhile.
We made a quick grocery run, too, and now we’re home until we head to see slave drew’s brother, his wife, and their two children tomorrow evening. Then we have one more gathering
Other than that, I’ve spent the day at home, and I have no complaints about that, either.
It snowed last night, so I got up to a very pretty world, the kind with a couple of inches of very wet snow stuck to every horizontal surface, and some that aren’t so horizontal, either.
The dogs were delighted. Snow must do something to the scents out there, because the dogs love little as much as fresh snow. It’s not so cold as to be overly unpleasant, but cold enough that the snow’s not melted, so it’s still pretty.
It was funny to watch people out and about today. I wore a turtleneck, a long-sleeve t-shirt and a zippered sweater over it, but no coat.
I hate coats.
I hate being cold, too, but I most of the time hate coats more, so I will nearly always just deal with being cold between car and building rather than have to wear a coat. There’s one in the car if I break down, but I rarely do.
There were people out today in mukluks and parkas, hats and earmuffs. It was about 34 degrees.
I went to college in upstate New York, and lived there for six years all told.
I used to walk regularly to jobs, to classes, from one bus stop to another and back again.
If you breathed through your mouth, your jaw ached because your fillings got so cold.
You didn’t go anywhere without coat and hat and gloves and boots and that includes to take out the garbage.
I remember sitting around in our apartment with friends. The radiator in the living room worked so little that we kept our television on it.
What we routinely wore, in each other’s houses in winter, was long underwear, tops and bottoms, jeans, socks, shoes or slippers, a flannel shirt, a wool sweater and a down vest.
To see people in 34 degree temperatures dressed us as if they are delivering the serum to Nome always amuses me.
Really, sir, I swear, you don’t need earmuffs in your car. Honest.
And if someone would like to explain the concept of sequined mukluks to me, I will listen and try and maintain a straight face, but seriously. Sequined mukluks? I think not.
We’ve spent our evening watching Project Runway and various British murder mysteries. Our Christmas gift for us this year was a new television – nothing wild, I think it’s 32″, and it was a very good price – a $500 TV for $200.
The sound, however, was less than stunning, so when I noticed a sound bar that was regularly about $180 for $40, so we added that to the system, and I spent a few minutes last night setting it up, so we’ve been enjoying sound we can hear again.
I started writing a presentation for South Plains on the concept of transparency, specifically in M/s relationships. It will require a lot more work, but it’s at least started, which makes me feel good.
I got the rest of the dividers I needed for my presentation binder, too, and set them up. That makes me feel much more organized.
Eventually I’d like to move them all to Power Point presentations, too, but I haven’t gotten that far. I’ve also spent a bit of time trying to go through my files on my computer and organizing them. They’re not a terrible mess, but it’s hard to have 15 – really – years worth of files that have been on four or five computers, and have them all as tidy as one might like.
Over the spring, I’d like to get that done, get my files sorted, get the programs migrated to Power Point as well as the notes I already have.
I suppose that while I rarely make resolutions, I do like to have plans, and those are probably the same thing. I’ll set up some other goals for myself over the next few weeks.
For the moment, my goal is an early bedtime.
If some of your goals are less than lofty, you have a better chance of meeting them.
The year 2012 is winding down.
There are three days left and then this year will be over. I can’t say I will be unhappy to see it in the rear-view mirror.
It hasn’t been a bad year, in many ways.
In February, my own Bluegrass Leather Pride contest went well, despite having lost two venues in the last month or so before. We ended up doing it in a private home and the upstairs of a local restaurant, and while it wasn’t ideal, it worked. My contestants didn’t end up competing at GLLA, but that happens sometimes.
I was also in Indianapolis in February for Beat My Valentine, an event sponsored by IMAS, Indiana Masters and Slaves.
In March I drove out to Dallas, to South Plains Leatherfest, to watch Charles and jacki compete for International Master and slave.
In April, we went to Fort Lauderdale for Beyond Leather, for the International Power Exchange contest. I presented there, including a brand new presentation on crops and canes. slave thomas also came and met us there, which was particularly nice. We spent a bit of time in Sarasota, and in Sanibel Island, one of my favorite places on the planet.
In August, we had another very successful Great Lakes Leather Alliance, despite some curves thrown at the last minute. One of my scheduled cocktail parties didn’t work out, but I had anticipated the possibility and made arrangements for an alternate plan.
I also presented there, one class that I always do, a class for newcomers to the event, and events in general, and another new class, So You Want to Be a Titleholder. I also played more at that event – three times – than I ever have before all put together.
In September, I was in Atlanta to present at the International Transgender Leather contest. I did a humor class there with Ms Tammy.
In October, slave drew and I went to Chicago for Kinky Kollege, and had a very good time there. Chicago has never been my favorite city, but we had a better time there than I had before. We really enjoyed it.
I worked to found the first Masters And slaves Together chapter in Kentucky, MAsT: Derby City. It is running successfully now and I’m proud of that.
We started creating Fringe Elements, a 501C3 Queer Community Center. We’re close to finding a physical venue, which has always been our goal. I took the Executive Director position, and I’m comfortable there. I’m good at running things, I like all sides of it.
I started this blog. I wasn’t sure I’d keep up with it, but I have. I posted for the first time on May 26, which was 216 days ago. This post is the 210th, meaning I’ve missed a total of six.
I’ve only really forgotten to post once, I know once was a power outtage issue, and I didn’t post for several days while I was at GLLA, but I think missing less than 3% is a pretty good percentage. I’ve seen the number of people who read, and comment, rise, too, and that’s been really gratifying.
It was the 15th anniversary this year of the Louisville Munch, an impressive run for any group. I added three new people to my formal Leather family by presenting Earned Leather to Gabriel, to Cerrin, and to Shane.
We all lived through an apocalypse, or should I say, another apocalypse. It reminds me of a line from my favorite episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, a musical episode called, “Once More with Feeling.”
“What can’t we do if we get in it?
We’ll work it through if there’s a minute.
We have to try. We’ll pay the price.
It’s do or die. Hey, I’ve died twice!”
How many apocalypses have there been and, so far, we’ve lived through them all.
There have been the usual problems and challenges. Issues with people, the usual things one encounters when one is involved in groups, the usual struggles there.
I’ve been profoundly disappointed in a few people this year, which is also part of living, I think. People disappoint us. Other people have stepped up, risen to challenges.
I’ve gotten closer to a few people, and that’s been nice. I’ve met other bloggers, both face to face and virtually, and that’s been an experience as well.
I lost at least two awards this year, and was “presented” one on a stage in front of a couple hundred people that turned out to be for someone else, though I wasn’t made aware of it until the award handed to me had another person’s name on it.
I know, I know, you should be flattered to be nominated, and I was – one was a Pantheon Lifetime Achievement award, which is a very significant award in the Leather community. The final result, however, was that I lost.
I turned 55 this year, and I have not liked that at all. I know, I know, I’m aware of all the things that are good – experience, wisdom, a level of acceptance, my health is good, and it’s far better than any alternative, but I don’t like it. I doubt I ever will. It is, however, what it is.
So, three more days and it’s all just one more memory. I suspect that our New Year’s Eve celebration will end up being a quiet one at home, us and the pups, probably one of those years in which we don’t even stay up late enough to greet 2013 officially until the morning.
And I’m ok with that.
Eventually, I will have time to respond to comments. Maybe have time to leave a few of my own.
Eventually, I will tell you what the mother of the children who were the object of my Santa Run said.
Eventually, I’ll post pictures of the rope rug and the peacock feather fan and the glass sculpture from Christmas.
Eventually, I’ll have time to find that story about the cat named Stiletto.
Eventually, I’ll talk about kink again.
Eventually, I’ll respond to the 47 emails I’ve ignored and finalize my class list and update my online calendar.
Eventually, I’ll clean off my desk and clean out my hall closet and vacuum under the sofa.
Eventually, I’ll write my last three Christmas cards that are clearly now holiday cards.
Eventually, I’ll get the wrap and bows and tags back to the basement.
Tonight I am bone tired, it’s been a long day after a very long week and I am going to have my cup of tea and sit with slave drew and the puppies.
And to all a good night.
I hate insomnia. I really really do.
I’ve had bouts of insomnia most of my adult life, since my early 20’s.
I don’t fall asleep easily, I’m a light sleeper most of the time, and once I’m awake, it can be really difficult to go back to sleep.
I was really tired and sleepy last night after our Christmas dinner with friends, and I went off to bed while slave drew stayed up to watch something he likes and I don’t. I don’t remember him coming to bed, I was sound asleep.
At 4am I was cozy, sleeping well, and drew got up to pee then came back to bed and spooned against me, which in cold weather I love.
I am cold by nature, my hands are often icy, and while I like sleeping in a cold-ish room, if I’m cold, I’m miserable.
That woke me up enough, however, to make it clear I had to get up and pee.
I came back to bed and curled up, and nearly went back to sleep.
I was almost there, and then some random thought intruded, the internal look-a-squirrel moment, and then I was lost.
I lay until about 4:40 trying to sleep.
I played with my phone until about 5:45, with two attempts to go back to sleep.
At 5:45 I thought, fuck it, if I go back to sleep now it’s hardly worth it I have to be up in less than an hour, just long enough to REALLY go to sleep, the kind of sleep that the alarm jangles you out of and you feel worse than if you’d not slept, at lose ends and cranky.
So, I got up, let the dogs out, did some things in the kitchen, made a pot of tea, which was all ready for me – slave drew had left the pot so all it needed was the boiling water, and he’d cleaned up the kitchen before going to bed.
It’s miserable weather right now, the kind where the dogs literally started to dash out in their usual fashion and stopped, dead, in the doorway, then tried to back up and back into the den.
They had to be nudged outside for a quick pee run, which was exactly that, then they were all waiting on the steps, under the overhang of the eaves, waiting to come back in.
It’s a degree or two above freezing, which is a blessing because it’s raining to beat the band. Two or three degrees lower and it would be sleet and freezing rain. This is just miserable rain, and it’s supposed to rain all day, it looks like, and stay in the mid 30’s the whole time.
We have plans to see a friend tonight, but I believe I will endeavor to get him to come to me, meaning that, with luck, I don’t have to leave my cozy home today.
And my blog is written already, so I’m off the hook for the evening, meaning that once our friend leaves, I suspect it will be bedtime for me, and I’ll try a different mix of the sleeping potions I use.
I have some non-holiday topics rolling around in my head, too, I promise. Soon.
“Never a Christmas morning,
never an old year ends,
but someone thinks of someone;
old days, old times, old friends.”
That is one of my favorite passages for Christmas because isn’t it true?
I have thought today of old days, old times, old friends.
My youth, when Christmas wasn’t what it was ever supposed to be and was mostly about disappointment and being reminded of what wasn’t there.
My dyke days, from which I have many happy memories, Christmases with Marie and Lynnie and Beth, when we would spend the day cooking and playing cards and drinking and smoking dope.
The Christmases with my kinky friends, with the family I’ve chosen.
I’m going to repeat it to myself, again, slowly, and savor the words and the images. I hope you all have had as pleasant a day as I have, and that you’re thought of those days, times and friends.
“Never a Christmas morning,
never an old year ends,
but someone thinks of someone;
old days, old times, old friends.”
So, it is the night before Christmas.
slave drew got home from his lake house, I made dinner for us tonight – pasta with salad and rolls – and also a Mediterranean Fish Casserole and Orzo Pilaf for tomorrow’s meal with friends. I’ll make a pumpkin pie during the day tomorrow.
drew opened one of his gifts from me, a book on insects. If you know slave drew, you know the thing he likes the most is information. He’ll pour over it and in six weeks know more than is really appropriate about insects.
The puppies got to open one of their presents, some greenie bones. They have a couple more gifts under the tree for tomorrow, but if I told what they were and the puppies happened to read my blog, then the surprise would be ruined.
We ate some of the candy I was given yesterday, until I made drew move them into another room lest I eat them all.
We are happily home until dinner tomorrow with friends, though if slave drew actually stays home all day, I’ll be surprised. There will be, I imagine, recycling that simply must be done, or a run to Starbucks, if Starbucks is open on Christmas day.
Disliking coffee, I have no knowledge of or interest in the answer to that.
When I was a kid, we would open one gift on Christmas eve. Over the years, sometimes I’ve done that, sometimes not.
We didn’t really have a lot of other traditions. We usually did a jigsaw puzzle over the holidays, played cards. I learned to play Pinochle young and we played it a lot.
I don’t remember what Christmas dinner was, probably a ham, given that my mother didn’t eat poultry of any kind, or fish.
There were no traditions of an ornament every year, or pancakes for dinner on Christmas eve, or a day watching movies in pajamas.
Our Christmas tree was always a pinyon pine, the state tree of Nevada. Pinyon pines are one of the pitchiest trees in the world, it seems. We never bought one, that I remember – poor, remember?
Our tree was usually one from a classroom. Do schools still do that, have a tree in the classroom? Probably not, but we did then, and by the time school let out, there were trees for free if you wanted them, so that was usually our tree.
I looked through my photos and these are nearly all the photos I have of my childhood Christmases. There were maybe three or four photos more, but not from other years.
The thing that strikes me is that I am rarely smiling in the photos.
The first one was when I was about three. Family friends – Aunt Bess and Uncle Charlie – had given me a ceramic poodle, with rabbit fur for a coat and a rhinestone collar. I had it for years. I don’t know what ever happened to it. It was a very frivolous gift, the kind I never got from my mother.
You can see our wild Jetson-esque curtains in the next photo. I was about six. I don’t remember anything I got, other than a baby doll that another family friend, Aunt Rose, had given me.
There’s another photo showing it, but not the cool curtains, which I’m sure were second hand from someone.
The last photo is probably the Christmas I remember best. I don’t know if my mother happened into some extra money or what, but it was the only Christmas I ever remember a gift from my mother that was really special.
I’d seen the doll in the local variety store, the only one in the town, really, where you could buy toys. I remember going in to look at it weekly, knowing absolutely that I would never have it.
It was some price so beyond the realm of what was possible that it never honestly occurred to me that I would get it. I don’t remember how much, maybe $20? But this was the early 1960’s, $20 was a lot and my mother was not the sort to sacrifice what she wanted in order to give her children special surprises. Not in her nature.
So, I would go and look at the doll, and never ask for it, because I knew I couldn’t have it, so what was the point?
Then one week, two or three before Christmas, it was gone, and I knew it had been bought and I’d never see it again. I remember feeling bleak about it, even that young, because at least I could visit her before, now she was gone forever.
And then, on Christmas, there was a box, a large one, and the doll was in it. There wasn’t much else, it wasn’t really a big Christmas, though I remember the container of Felix the Cat bubble bath you can see there.
I remember being kind of stunned. Note the expression isn’t one of a child jumping up and down with excitement, or gleeful.
I had the doll for years, she wore some of my baby clothes, and I made clothes for her. I kept her in pristine condition – I took care of my toys because I knew that there’d not be replacements if I ruined them.
So, that’s my memories. Tomorrow will be busy, and I hope joyous for all of you.
I hope that you and yours are also comfortably ensconced somewhere.
And for all of us, I wish for peace.
Tonight was a party again, I know that shocks you all, though I think I’ve had more invitations this year than ever before. Some years I honestly do one party, maybe, and that’s about it.
This was a largish party at the home of Charles and jacki, two of my favorite people. I’ve no idea how many people were actually there, but I bet it was 40, if you counted everyone who was there for at least a while.
I brought home much loot, all of it cool.
Charles and jacki gave me a lovely scarf in shades of red and purple, that I really like a lot. If you know me personally, you’re likely to see me wearing it because I do like it muchly.
There was also a theme of sharp things – who could have guessed?
The wooden pie shape is a really nifty cheese board, with particularly cool cheese implements that look more dangerous than your usual cheese knives, and was a gift from Shane.
I kidded that I could tie a boy to the bed with his legs spread, then slide the wedge right up under his dick and balls and be all ready for CBT, or at least a very alarmed boy.
The Buck knife was from Fred and Sarah, along with homemade vanilla extract and homemade vanilla and honey salt scrub.
I also got cookies and candy and a set of wine charms from tonight’s gift exchange, but one of the things that was especially cool – and they were ALL cool, I promise, was a set of tile coasters from Caile.
They have, of course, the Leather Pride flag, the BDSM Triskelion, the logo for the Louisville Munch, and the Fleur de Lis, which is the symbol for the city of Louisville and was what I have always used in the logo for the Louisville Munch.
I was also fed, and wined, and had various people waiting on me and scurrying to fetch me things. I got cards, too, and if I forgot anything that anyone gave me, blame it on my failing memory rather than lack of enthusiasm.
I believe tomorrow does not have a gathering planned, at least not yet. Christmas we’ll get together with friends and do dinner and gifts. On Wednesday, we’ll see another friend who warned me he’d like to get us our gifts “while their food still holds out.”
He’s entirely kidding.
I’m pretty sure, anyway.
Then Thursday we have a Fringe Board of Directors meeting that won’t be a full complement, but will be a few more gifts exchanged, though I believe I have all mine, I’m just playing Santa again.
I still have to see Ms Tammy but I don’t think either of us has anything perishable, so that’s not pressing.
aisha and I made nebulous plans today to have dinner sometime, the four of us, to catch up and pass off tokens.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and I expect it to be quiet, with just the two of us and the dogs, and we will all be fine with that.
With the single real bump in the road yesterday, it has been a really pleasant holiday season thus far. I got many things done earlier than usual, and that helped enormously, as I know you’re all astonished about. Of course it makes it easier.
I hope you all finish your errands and cooking and wrapping and traveling and spend the holiday with the people you want, in the place you want to be. If that’s not possible, then I hope the place you are is peaceful.
I had a productive Saturday, if not a very exciting one, but that’s not always bad. I had no pressing need to leave the house, and other than going to the mailbox, I didn’t.
I did a lot of calendar-related things today.
I put up the subjects for the Special Interest Groups for the upcoming year. I’d created the events, but hadn’t added the topics and the questions, which I like to have done before January.
I scheduled Titleholder Preparations, where we will invite people who are running or thinking about running for a leather title to attend and be asked questions, have an opportunity to practice speeches and/or presentations with feedback and support.
I’ve worked on scheduling classes that I’ll offer this year, my expanded BDSM 101 classes. I wanted to look at them from the ground up again, and I’m close, I still have to decide what three of the nine classes will actually be, and I need to find the location, but I’m not overly worried about it.
I meant to do more email work, but what I did do that I’m pleased about was updating my presentation binder.
I have one binder that I try and keep a copy of all my current presentation notes in, so when I go to an event, I can just grab that and know everything I need is in it.
It also means that the occasional time when I am expected to present a class I didn’t remember I was presenting, which has happened, I have the notes for it, too.
I printed out copies of the notes that I hadn’t added, and put them in the page protectors I use, and put labels on the dividers so I can find the notes I need when I need them.
I also updated my kinky biography and 2013 list of classes. I have a couple of classes that are on my list that I need to write when and if someone picks them.
I’ve always done that, I”ll write the description for the class I want to offer, and send it out when I’m asked for my class list. Then, when someone requests it, I’m forced to write it.
I have to write a class on Transparency in M/s Relationships, because I’m scheduled to do that one in Dallas in March, at South Plains Leatherfest.
I have two more, one on being a female master in a gay male world, and one on loving the unlovable, accepting the things within ourselves and others that we see as essentially unlovable.
I need to move things to my online calendar now, but I’m really pleased to get so much done. I did answer one email I needed to respond to as well, and I still have a bit of time.
Tomorrow I’ll go to a party and see a lot of my friends. It will be fun,, then slave drew will be back at home on Christmas Eve.
And then, at the end of the day, someone made me cry.
I don’t cry easily or often. I had done a lot of shopping for someone who couldn’t do the actual errands, including buying for a grandchild.
I didn’t get the list until about three hours before they needed to be delivered, and I had a short window of time to put it together.
You might realize that it was probably known that gifts would be needed before then, and it might have been possible to get me a list before the last possible moment. I realize that as well.
On the list were video games in a format that I couldn’t find in three stops, so I was left with the clothes I’d been asked to find, some toys I picked out myself for him, and a soccer ball, which apparently the ditsy and incompetent clerk never gave me.
I was in a hurry, trying not to be late in another pickup, and I just didn’t notice that the soccer ball never got in the cart. It was the Friday before Christmas at Target. It was a lot busy and a lot stressful.
I’d already done grocery shopping, too, and felt badly I couldn’t find the games.
The grandfather thanked me for doing it, nicely, thanked me specifically for the clothes, and told me the grandchild “loved” them, which I was happy about because the selection had been limited, even more than my time.
I responded that I was glad that the boy had liked the clothes, going on to say that they had been the only things in the store that fit the list – the one that I got at noon on Friday before Christmas.
I’d genuinely picked out things I thought the child would like, a t-shirt with a robot image, a pair of camo cargo pants, a pair of pajamas with dinosaurs.
After I responded that I was really glad the child had liked the pants, the grandfather apparently felt compelled to tell me it was a sarcastic comment on his part, that the child hadn’t liked them because they weren’t toys.
And now I’ve sat for 15 minutes crying over it.
The child probably got more gifts at this holiday celebration than I got the first dozen years of my life, at least. He still has another set of grandparents and his own parents, too, from whom he will also get presents.
I did my best, and now I feel really miserable.
I’m not at all sure why he felt compelled to point out it had been a sarcastic remark on his part, why he couldn’t have just let me think it was sincere, or why he even felt that making the comment was the thing to do.
He’s called to try and apologize, I’m sure, and there are at least one or two texts from him, but I’ve not looked at any of them.
It was unintentional on his part, I know, but it still hurt my feelings, and that’s not really that easy to do.
It took me by surprise, and I am still surprised at myself.
It’s pretty easy to piss me off or annoy me, but I keep my feelings under wraps most of the time, to avoid bruising.
I should have wrapped them better, clearly.