I am the kind of person who tries to see the best in people. I am not bragging because I am wrong a lot of the time. Nonetheless, it is how I choose to see the world, and it makes me happy.
This morning that worldview has been turned on its head. A missing $2 magnet has made me question everything I believe to be true about humanity.
Let me explain.
My husband and I foster dogs. We have fostered 21 dogs to date. At one point-in-time, we had 11 foster dogs, including seven puppies, plus our four permanent dogs all in our home all at one time. And it was Christmas.
Yes, that is 15 dogs. And, yes, we own the crazy.
Last May, the organization through which we foster, Rover Rescue, had a fundraiser at which my 10-year-old daughter bought me a paw-print magnet that said “Rescue Mom” for my car – a bumper magnet, if you will. It was cute. The $2 purchase price was a donation. It was well within her limited budget, and she loves that we foster dogs. As luck and time would have it, she is not yet 13, so she still overtly loves me as well. How could she not buy that for me?
As if altering the circumstance for effect, which I am not, I left the florist this morning after ordering some memorial arrangements for loved ones that have passed away and noticed that someone stole my magnet.
My $2 “Rescue Mom” magnet. A gift from my 10-year-old.
Who does that?
I have had things taken from me in the past and have always looked at the situation with a “they must have needed it more than me” attitude. I have been trying to wedge that belief into this circumstance all morning. No matter how hard I try, I cannot make it fit.
It is such a down and dirty act that I cannot help but find it a little funny. If some low-life scumbag does something like that, what other things of tremendous sentimental value and little monetary worth are in danger? Should I lock up my pinch-clay, unglazed bowl? How about my plastic and yarn beaded bracelet? My construction paper hand turkey with the cotton-ball comb?
Ridiculous examples, I know. I don’t display my bowl on my unattended car, so the opportunity to do any further pinching by others doesn’t really exist. Still…
I hope the universe rights itself. All the blood is rushing to my head, and I simply cannot sustain this worldview. I guess I will just have to believe that there was a “Rescue Mom” identification emergency and be grateful that, fortuitously, my magnet was close enough to help save the day.
While I am at it, I’m also going to tell myself I am the perfect weight for my height. After all, since I’m in for a dime,…
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