About Me

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J is an unpublished author, represented by Carrie Pestritto of Prospect Agency. J's first novel is a YA fantasy horror, regarding a siren who must choose between the haunting life and humanity. J draws on occasion, reads quite often, and is a founding member of the critique group 'Thoughtical Verbosity.'

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Hope for the Species

Working in customer service, it can be very easy to find yourself having a crisis of faith when it comes to humanity. People behave like very immature, spoiled children when they don't get their way; they throw tantrums, call names, and run whining to whoever will listen over the simplest things. Like a certain bakery running out of their favorite donut. Or the fact that said bakery closes at the same time every night, or--gasp!--charges each customer the same amount for the same product.

Sometimes I feel as if I understand why the smelly guys in their great-grandfather's overcoats wander on the streets, sporting signs that explain to the rest of us crazy mortals that the world is at its end. Perhaps it's about time for another flood, the way some people behave!

But then something magical happens, most often involving my niece and nephew. For example: the two little imps are outside, playing on the trampoline. Suddenly, those inside hear the end of an altercation: My nephew storms off of the trampoline, his four-year-old brow furrowed with young anger, and hollers back at his equally upset six-year-old sister that she is "Kinda bumpy!"

One assumes, as he marches in and furiously crosses his arms and pouts, that she has made him bounce when he did not want to. The two have shouted at one another that their friendship is over; it is a done deal.

I try to explain to my nephew that all is not lost. I finally tell him that perhaps if he and his sister merely give one another a big hug, they may once again play and the Cold War may come to an end. With a final huff, he gives in and marches back outside. The two glower at one another (one on the trampoline, one on the grass) for about three seconds. Then my nephew makes a single spazzy jerk and a funny sound, and all of the sudden their giggling again, she helps him back onto the trampoline, and once more they are best friends.

I hope that ability to forgive, forget and spazz out a little never fades. And I would truly love it if we 'big kids' had the same method for solving out issues.

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