Ramblin’ Prose

Sometimes, like deaths, these things come in threes.

First: Chatting with someone in the neighborhood about Pippin and his increased libido since he was neutered, I mentioned that he was particularly fond of our babysitter when she came over to watch the girls on Mother’s Day. I explained that the babysitter told us her dog was lying in her lap and that’s probably why, she explained, Pippin was all over her. The person I was telling this story to had an interesting observation. “That explains it. At least he’s attracted to his own race. I mean sex. I mean…”

“You mean species?” I asked. “Yes! That’s it!”

Second: Work’s been a bear lately. So, when I pick up the girls, it’s usually close to closing time where they go after school. One day recently, I really cut it close. As I walked in, a couple of the women sounded the same tune: “We’re sorry, but we sold your children.” I chuckled, hesitantly, and tried a really poor retort: “So, how much do I get?”

Third: Speaking of work, I was privy to this conversation the other day: “Hey, so-and-so, can you get me this really fast?” So-and-so responds: “Well, yessir, massa!”

I guess how you grow up colors your interpretation of these events. It colored them enough for me to lump them all together.

Sometimes when these incidents come up, I want to quite loudly comment about the person and their horse, but we’re in much saner times. Besides, I have to keep working to keep my family fed and reasonably happy.

I haven’t really come up with a tolerable way to respond. How would you address these people?

I try to think very carefully about what I say. I’m very cognizant about people’s feelings in regards to sex and sexual preference, religion, work (especially work and many times a person’s IQ or inability to keep their knuckles from dragging at work) and yes race.

I do slip up sometimes and feel horrible about it and beat myself up about it. I usually bounce the words I said and my feelings of remorse off Susan and she tells me whether I made a fool out of myself or whether I’m beating myself up for nothing. If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize.

Most times, I’m pretty sure others don’t go through that introspection. Or there might be fewer of these misinterpretations.