those we love are to be kkkick-kissed

Loving people, ugh… you know, there is that saying, “We like someone because… we love someone although.” And I guess that truer words have never been spoken. Or they have, but they just don’t apply to this post, so let’s just say that THOSE are indeed the truest. This is the reason that a perfect stranger can cut in front of me in line at the bank on Friday afternoon, and instead of snapping, frothing, at their jugular vein while my eyes roll around in my skull like a cartoon character, I am able to calmly step back and give them a smile, because I am thinking, this person might have had a horrible day. This person might really be in a rush, maybe their grandma is in labor… or this person might bite harder than I do… it is because I do not know that person, and therefore, while it is true that I can imagine all kinds of bad things about them, it is more likely that I will assume good things. I always assume good shit about people I don’t know, and the opposite is true, too. Those that I love… well, they get the short end of the assumption stick. In fact, they are lucky not to get hit over the head with it.

Once, someone who loved me quite a lot, and the feeling was mutual, chided me, saying, “Those you love are to be kissed.” Now, aside from sounding like the perfect first line for a Hallmark card, I got what he was saying. It seems like we use up all our good shit on people we don’t even know.

The mail lady who is a bitter, sour-mouthed lagoon creature and looks down her nose at me like I am the one who slept with her ugly husband- gets a smile.

My husband of a billion years, who has actually had sex with me a couple of times, so you would think he would be on the short list of people to be nice to- gets a glare and a “Why isn’t the fucking garbage taken out yet?”

The little kid who runs out in front of my car gets a startled laugh and a rueful shake of the head as I slam on the brakes, adrenaline flooding my entire body. “Oh boys will be boys, that little stinker.” (Ok maybe I do not use such hokey words, but for illustration’s purposes, it works)

My son, who I would literally lie down on train tracks while simultaneously being pecked to death by big crows to protect from harm, accidentally spills pop on the floor, and I am likely to scream his face right off his little head.

At work, I ignore their dog (Yes they bring a dog to work… and all of the children in the family, but let’s not get started on that) who runs in front of me and barks at customers.

At home, if my dog farts after I have given the Be Silent command, I want to beat her with a big stick. No I don’t DO it, but I really want to, and I use a very mean dominant dog voice. You should hear it.

What is with that? Why do we save all the politeness, the sweetness, the goodies, for people we don’t live with, don’t even particularly like, will perhaps not ever see again, and don’t have sex with (Well except for the mail lady. Hehehe. Just kidding- Ew, she is such an amazon troll woman)? Why don’t we use some of that goodness for the folks in our houses? In our workplaces? In our beds?

Not like I have an answer… I was just thinking about it.

Now I must go- I have to yell at my family about what a fricking mess the house is… you know, the least they could do, all lounging about on their “spring breaks”, is pick up the place… instead of waiting for me to, me who is working two jobs and barely has time to freakling shower….