Peanut butter. I just needed peanut butter. And a few more hours in the day, but Walmart was all out of those. So I settle for peanut butter. Feeling overwhelmed by the never ending race against the ticking clock, I wheel around the corner of the aisle and nearly take her down with my cart.
“Which type of jelly do you think my granddaughter likes best?” she asks, nonplussed by the fact that my cart is screeching to a halt on two wheels.
What? I try not to actually look at her because, really? I. AM. IN. A. HURRY. And I just need peanut butter.
“I can’t remember if I gave her grape or strawberry last time?” she continues as I try to duck around her and grab the peanut butter. But I can’t get to it without stepping in front of her, and the well- mannered southern girl in me won’t allow that. Even though, I need to go. NOW.
“Ummm… well, my boys like grape best,” I offer up smiling, still trying to reach around her. But she doesn’t move, and I am forced to make eye contact. A halo of white hair encompasses her face and two of the brightest blue eyes I have ever seen dance back at me as her face lights up with a smile.
“Boys, huh? How many do you have?” she is clearly unaware that I just need to get some peanut butter.
“Three,” I mutter trying to look away. But she holds my gaze with those amazing eyes, and I notice that her smile makes her appear years younger than her stooped body tells her to be.
“Three boys. What a delight! You are doing a most excellent job, mom,” she says, “a job that only you can do. What a gift! And you have the most beautiful smile.” She follows my shifting eyes, reaches back and hands me the peanut butter. “Yes, I think you are right. She does like grape. How nice of you to help an old lady like me when you are in such a hurry.”
