Surprising Myself

Three moments where my life surprised me:

1. A panicked phone call from my bank. Some unusual activity on my account. Had I made a nearly $10K purchase recently at a local coffee shop?

Ah-hem, no.

The charge had posted to my account already. I told the bank I would call the coffee shop and clear things up. Rang the coffee shop. Clearly got a college co-ed on the other end of the line.

May I speak to a manager?, I asked.

I'm a manager, the college co-ed said. I could feel the self fluffing that goes with a twenty-something with the title "manager". I explain the problem, and fluffed up manager asks if I'll hold on a moment. He holds the phone to his shoulder and tries to not entirely freak out.

It's that person who ordered a latte last week. He explains to a co-worker. The one where we charged her $10K.

To my surprise that latte order has become legendary among the barristas. I try to avoid self-fluffing as I realize: I am legend.
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2. Training for the 1/2 marathon I stopped at a distant YMCA for my date with a treadmill. I had seven miles to run. I had my gym bag in the trunk of my car. This YMCA location was on my way back from a conference in Beatrice.

I stopped.
I plugged in my ear plugs.
I ran.

At 6.75 miles I was interrupted by the front desk clerk. Yanked out my ear buds, tried not to trip on the treadmill, and was informed of the "t-shirt required dress code". My tank top wouldn't do.

Please cover up, the clerk said as she stared at her shoes.

I am surprised to realize how much energy I have to expel - feeling both embarrassed, and upset - after running 6.75 miles.
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3. McKibbin and I brought Naomi's bassinet down from the attic. With my brother and sister-in-law expecting the bassinet might come in handy. An inch of dust and cobwebs from attic layered on the surface, I resolved to clean up the bassinet before handing it over to the expectant parents. A free bassinet is nice, a free bassinet that is clean is nicer.

McKibbin helped me disassemble the pieces so I could wash the fabric. I wonder, out loud, whether this thing came already assembled? I have no gift for putting things together. I read the directions. I lay everything out. But I have no gift for putting things together.

No, McKibbin says simply. It came in a box. I put it together.

Really?

Yes.

Then I remember the hormonal train wreck that was my pregnancy. I wonder if I even tried putting this thing together? Most likely I tried, burst into inconsolable tears, and stormed out of the apartment. I asked McKibbin if this likely chain of events actually occurred?

He says he can't remember.
Smart guy.
Whether he remembers or not, sometimes lying is simply the best option.

The surprising thing is: I washed the fabric and re-assembled the bassinet all by myself. Not without considerable difficulty from my lack of talent in this area. For the record, though, I did it without crying, or stomping out, or anything.