In Which I Show My True Colors And Mad Skilz And the Kindness of Strangers

Okay, before you tell me that you're tired of all my Whidbey stories...I'll tell you that I need to share this one.  Just this once.  Because it tells you a lot about who I am and why I like Whidbey.  And you can always delete me from your reader.

You may remember, due to 11 or 90 reminders if you're a friend of mine on FB--that Big's and my 20th anniversary was on June 2nd.  You may also remember the pictures of our sweet weekend alone on Whidbey, and that I even mentioned getting my daughter a b'day present--a spatter paint Whidbey Island Lifeguard sweatshirt.  I was on FIRE, I was...gettting a present a full 2 weeks before it was required.  Woot!

Fast forward to June 18, a.k.a. Daughter's Birthday Eve.  I was inventorying (that's a verb) presents, and could not for the life of me find the darn sweatshirt.  Of course, my first step was to blame ask Big if he remembered where "we" had put the sweatshirt after our weekend. So then, as, as most good husbands do, he looked up, a blank stare on his face, and said, "I thought you took care of it.". 

Great.  Now, before you think I've raised a troll, my daughter was well blessed and full of gratitude on the big turning 12 day. 

So, we went into town, just strolling and browsing.  And she spied THE sweatshirt in the window.  The one I told her was unwise to purchase so close to her b'day.  The one that I'd so cleverly purchased and squirreled away.  Away-Away, evidently.

So...I told her.  "Sweetie...guess what?  Mom and Dad bought you that sweatshirt, and I'm sure it will show up, but isn't it funny?  We can't find it right now.  *attempting a weak smile*

"Oh..."she says..."That's okaaaay.  Hmmm. I hope we find it.". 

And away we went. 

Fast-forward to yesterday...after lunch...on an afternoon stroll in Langley.  "Hey, Mom...there's my sweatshirt, heh-heh."   (Have I told you that I dislike good-natured ribbing at my expense?  But I'm really good at dishing it out. Ahem.)

"Yeah.  Heh-heh. Tell you what, J., I'm going to just replace it.  I know we bought it, but I've probably thrown it away or something.  It's not fair to have told you...ya-da-ya-da-ya-da."

Feeling like an idiot taking a deep breath of resignation, I approached the cashier of the little boutique, and thought I'd make her day by telling her our little tale of woe.  In fact, I said something like, "Well, we're going to try this again..." 

To my surprise, after hearing my story, she asked my last name.  Seconds later, she retrieved my receipt, and pointed to the sweatshirt.   "You must've left it in town.  Somebody brought it back to the store, and so I was holding it for you.  I was just getting ready to hang it back up on the rack though, since it's been...uh...2 months." 

Me:  "Really? (stammering) I can't believe this!  Thank you so much!!!"

How about that?

Today

Thank you, God, for the little things.  Little towns.  Little gestures of good will.  Little serendipitous moments which show you're very imperfect people (me) Your love, in the most intimate, amazing ways.  In Jesus' name, Amen.

P.S.  The moral of the story:  Do not shop ahead.