Yesterday was an ordinary day. I picked up my second grader’s new glasses (his 4th and 5th pairs since he got his new prescription in September–remind me to buy stock in Visionworks and consider this your personal investment tip), stopped by Hobby Lobby to find a t-shirt for my first grader’s 100th Day of School project, and swung into the dollar store to search for some supplies for said project before going grocery shopping.
After spending a good hour or so yesterday at Kroger, I emptied the contents of my two–Lord, help me when they are teenagers–full-sized carts into the back of my SUV, pushed my two empty, full-sized carts to the cart return corral, and was then greeted with this unexpected treat while attempting to enter my car. Surprise!
These were not here an hour or so ago when I pulled into this parking space. An hour or so ago, I opened my car door to its’ maximum as I fumbled with my keys and dropped my phone in my purse while digging around for my obscenely long grocery list. But here they are now, hindering my ability to open my car door.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but I’m not sure if this one is quite that word-worthy. The fact that not one, not two, but three separate people felt the need to dump their carts right here by my car instead of pushing them the extra 20 feet to the cart corral, on what was a beautifully sunny day in Houston, left me momentarily speechless. I mean, a guy with his leg in a cast? Okay, I get it. Two people when it’s pouring down rain? Maybe. But three people? It’s inexcusable. Lazy. Inconsiderate. Selfish. Disrespectful. And I can think of a few more choice words. Maybe not a thousand, but a few more really juicy ones.
I’m guessing the shoppers who abandoned their carts in this spot are oblivious to the world around them. They are too busy with their busy lives to think of anything but what’s next on their important list of things to get done. They live in a constant egotistical state that blocks their full enjoyment of everything–without even realizing it. They will always abandon their carts because, in their eyes, it’s not their job to return them. That’s what the store pays that teenager minimum wage to do, so why should they? It’s not their job.
I could have that irresponsible attitude, too. It would make my life much easier in a lot of ways, especially when I have all three kids in tow and I’m in a time crunch to get something done. But I choose not to.
All I can do is be thankful I am more aware of my surroundings and more aware of the impact my seemingly insignificant actions have on absolutely everything and everyone. I’m more present than not, and for that I am unbelievably grateful.
And that amazing feeling of gratitude multiplies exponentially every time I see my fourth grader happily go out of his way to collect one of those recklessly abandoned carts and push it to its’ designated spot, without any prompting from me.
Too bad he wasn’t with me on this grocery trip, he would’ve been busy. And happy, too.