Sweeping Things Under the Carpet (A story about leading by example)

My 2 year old took a tub of black eye shadow and sprinkled it all over our cream bedroom carpets. He didn’t spill. He sprinkled. Liberally.

 

 

I was very upset. And the look on his face told me that he understood how I felt about his “magic dust”. 

 

 

After I calmed down, I took a small Persian rug and threw it over the black marks.  Out of sight, out of mind you know?

 

 

While I took a shower to try and calm down (it was too early for wine), my son called for help from his most trusted ally and together they got busy with Operation Clean-up.  They had it all figured out:

1. Soap (Green dish liquid)
2. Water (poured into a nearly empty cranberry juice bottle)
3. Sponges x 2
4. Tell Mama the good news
5. Ask Mama if the sushi date was still on

 

Well, the 7 or so dry stains turned into one giant wet puddle of green/cranberry and MAC Carbon Black.

 

 

So, my daughter tells me (behind her brother’s back), they abandoned their mission after Step 3 and followed my example.  They took a rug and covered up the catastrophe.  Out of sight, out of mind you know?  

 

 

Well, let me tell you, I took the darlings for sushi.  Right after that shower.

 

 

 

I figured that some things are indeed best left swept and left under the carpet.

 

 

Besides, what’s a childhood without memories of “magic dust” anyway?

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2016

 

Aluta continua, as they say. This parenting road is indeed still long…. (for me) but gosh it can be funny sometimes.

 

Wrong Place Right Time

I believe in being well prepared.

So, I arrived early for two reasons. One, I wanted the time to gather my thoughts and jot down some ideas before I lost them. Two, I needed to do my makeup ahead of my presentation.

So, you can imagine how annoyed I was when I arrived at my office 2 hours ahead of the meeting and there was someone waiting outside the door!

I sat in my car and watched him trying the buzzer. I just sat there shaking my head. Two hours early? Who does that? 

I took out my calendar and checked the invite again. I did not have the time wrong. The fool was two hours early.

I waited.

I thought that perhaps HE had gotten the time wrong and if that was the case, surely he would phone me.

So, I waited.

Now I know that a normal person would have walked 100m and talked to the person. But, I have never been a fan of “normal”. The other reason I could not even think of getting out of my car is because I looked (and smelled) homeless.

I was wearing slippers for driving, my hair was wet, I had no makeup on and I had been eating a slice of toast with anchovy paste. If he didn’t die from the shock of seeing someone from Thriller, the smell from my hands would surely have stopped his stupid heart.

So I waited.

He walked away from the door and went to the bathroom. I thought of making a quick dash out of the car but could not take the risk.

So I waited.

One hour later, after my hair had dried, my makeup had set, my slippers were in the boot and my breath was fresh (thanks to some baby-bum wipes and some Listerine which you don’t need to know where I spat), the long waiting game was over.

I walked up to the door and said “Wow, you are early!”

He replied “No, actually I think you are late, but it’s okay. I understand”.

We laughed and I walked ahead of him into the board room.

I said “Please make yourself comfortable”.

He replied “I will try. I am very nervous”.

Nervous? This dude was weirder and weirder. Why would you be nervous about attending a pitch when YOU were not the one doing the presentation?

I gave weirdo his coffee and he said “Will you be the only one interviewing me?”

I thought of replying “No, I think the CEO of the Mental Health Association will be joining me”.

He took out a copy of his CV and gave it to me. Weirdness should come with a forehead tattoo, I thought.

I looked down at the CV. It had a cover note that said “Block D”.

The dude was now 1.5 hours LATE for his dream job and sitting in a board room in Block B.

My heart broke for him.

So, I did what any “normal” person would do.  I asked our secretary to deal with the situation.

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and http://www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.