LaZy

My arms were sore, really really sore. We were in a huge Wallmart, it was bigger than Baxter the little town we live in. I pushed myself all over the store. They had Christmas decorations out and I spent a lot of time there, they had winter baby clothes on display so I browsed away, they had a couple of cool ideas for presents for friends and I finished shopping for my family out west. I must have been back and forth across that store three or four times.

I stopped and rested for a bit, just watched people come and go. It was a busy place and people were bustling by. It's not far off Halloween and American Thanksgiving so the store had a three for one set of decorations Hallowgivingmass. It was impossible not to feel festive. For me at least. But then I wasn't dragging a wack of kids behind me, or trundling beside a bored husband, I was there because I wanted to be. So my mood was good.

There were lots of people using the electric wheelchairs provided by the store and I admit to thinking that I should have given in and used one. It was a huge store after all, but I'm pretty adament about getting at least a little bit of exercise. So on the way out I was quite pleased with myself. My arms were tired, I was sweating, shopping as exercise, cool.

Joe left me with the cart and went to get the car which we'd left over by the movie theatre where we'd seen an afternoon movie. It was a long way off so I just settled back to watch people come and go. A couple of well coiffed women, too well coiffed for Wallmart perhaps, walked by and notice me sitting in my chair clearly waiting to be picked up and then another biggish guy getting into an electric cart.

"I think most of these people are just lazy," the auburn said to the blond, loud enough for all to hear.

Then they were in the store.

Lazy?

Lazy?

I just pushed a fat guy, a hugely fat guy, around a store, went where he wanted to go and I'm being called lazy. Like I'm faking being in a chair just to get good parking (though I do like the parking) and a push through the store. But wait, I'm pushing me! Where is the lazy there?

I wanted to yell - "Get back here ... I've just thought of the perfect thing to say."

Joe got out of the car with a big grin, looking like he was loving the day.

I kept my mouth shut, refused to bring negativity into his day.


For two days now, I've fought down the nastiness. I decided it would be my blog on Monday, gata go back to work on Monday. But I made it two days ... that's not lazy, that's heroic