Well, we were in need of a gallon of milk today, so after an appointment I stopped by a Marathon station on the way home to pick up some. The store wasn't very busy, so I was able to run to the refrigerated case, grab a milk, and pay without much hassle, a real bonus as I was trying to get back to the house to spend some time with my sister - who was babysitting for me - before the kids got up. After the clerk, a nice guy in his late teens or early twenties, handed me my change, I grabbed the milk, and headed outside.
Now, I should explain that we are currently trying this whole use-cash-for-groceries thing, and I am certainly not used to paying with cash so often; there seems to be a certain finesse I lack in taking care of said money in a timely, smooth fashion. Which is exactly where my problem came in.
As I was trying to put the bills and coinage back into the accordion file folder I store the grocery money in, I lost my grip of the gallon of milk and it hit the sidewalk with a loud smack. I sighed and looked down to find that my gallon of milk had pretty much exploded on impact, spattering a Lexus nearby with a slight spray of dairy and saturating the sheet of corrugated cardboard that was inexplicably covering the walkway. Once I finally got the money back into the folder, I picked up the jug, which by now was hemorrhaging milk all over the place and chucked it into the nearest garbage bin. Then, I trudged back into the c-store, took out another gallon of milk, and made my way back to the counter to pay ... again. The same clerk commented that I must have needed a lot of milk, and after I told him what had happened he offered to exchange the milk for me ... IF I had the jug that had exploded. There was no way in the world I was digging through a gas station garbage can for a busted gallon of milk, so I declined his offer and paid ... again. This time, though, I paused at the counter to put the change back in the accordion folder; I had to have learned something from this whole milky mess.
Gallon of milk firmly in my arms, I walked back out into the cold and made my way to my car, careful to miss the giant puddle of milk on the sidewalk. *sigh* (Please know that I really, really wanted to clean it up, but had absolutely no idea how to and made sure that the gas station attendants knew of it so they could spray it off or something.) It was then that I thought something that surprised me ...
"Well, that was a mess, but I'm just glad it happened here outside and not in my house."
I smiled at the thought: I had been grateful without making a concerted effort at it, without really trying.
So today, I am grateful for two things: 1) that the milk exploded on the sidewalk outside and not in my house, and 2) that this gratitude exercise seems to be making some sort of difference in me.
Have a wonderful day!
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