As he matured, Zach began to express his feelings the hard way: without profanity. I remember one of the many times he turned down my invitation to sit in the timeout chair. My frustration must have registered on the infinitesimal part of his brain that wasn’t focused on himself. “Don’t you roll your stupid eyes at me,” he warned.
It was one of those parenting moments that called for me to act like an adult, but I was too overcome by the pleasure of seeing the values I had instilled in Zach brought so vividly to life. I scooped him into my arms, put him in his room, shut the door, ran downstairs and laughed until I nearly puked.
I don’t know where things went wrong but today Zach is kind, polite and deeply respectful of people who don’t deserve it. This good streak of his irritates the hell out of me. He has what I consider the unnatural ability to shrug off rude people. Worse, he invents excuses for their actions. I fly into a rage that such people are allowed to exist, then I hang on to the incident way past its shelf life.
Six months ago, after a particularly annoying spate of noxious encounters, I bought an Ipod Nano. Initially, I used it on a flight to Costa Rica and, not surprisingly, it was the first time I enjoyed being on an airplane. My little MP3 player freed me from the mindless chatter of other travelers. My spirit soared.
Now I plug in whenever I leave the house. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that Nano changed my life. My blood pressure is stable; my internal Feng is Shui-ing again.
Zach shudders when he sees me gathering my Ipod along with my car keys and grocery list. My husband rolls his eyes. In stores, fellow customers look at me more oddly than they did before.
Sorry, idiots.
