The Lady In Purple.

So, if you haven’t been following my FB page (tsk tsk) or Twitter (also: tsk tsk), this is what happened on Saturday:


Why, yes, for some bizarre reason I have a hairline fracture in my finger.  On Friday while at my desk I looked at my hand and thought, hmmm…this one finger looks puffy. Saturday it was the size of a sausage and purple! Don’t know how it happened. X-rays at the friendly urgent care clinic show a teeny tiny break. So I’m splintered up, which makes it hard to type proficiently. Especially the letter “t”.

Anyway. This little medical emergency canceled a long awaited trip to Pennsylvania to see two college buddies. It was our “time away” for a day – and canceling it put a big major damper on my Saturday. Also, our coffee grinder broke (in mid grind, mind you) so that played a part in my grumpy day.

Sunday we got the kids out of the house finally. We made a trip to Bed, Bath & Beyond for the grinder then to the grocery store. And you know those little “customer in training” carts? Well, it was my brilliant idea to let B have one.

And by “brilliant” I mean, what the hell was I thinking and hopefully my son doesn’t drive like he did with the shopping cart when he is 16 18 21 45.

Anyway, the kids had been a little crazy all day. B in particular was extra energized as he sped, maneuvered, bumped along the way. Then came the bread aisle, where for some reason there was a free form display of little cheese wedges. As I’m talking to Mayita in the cart, and Husband is grabbing yogurt from another aisle, we hear….


Yep, B backed himself up in the cardboard display case and all the items came a’tumblin’ down.

Instantly he knew he did something not awesome. After all the reminders, commands and warnings I gave him earlier – he was overwhelmed and DONE.  While I silently just walked over to put reconstruct the crumpled display, put everything back and silently stew on a truly lousy weekend. And over B’s wails, a woman stooped down with me.

The lady in purple.

She had on different shades of purple, it seemed. Definitely a purple top. Even her eye makeup had a bit of violet in it. I just remembered seeing the color purple.

The lady in purple, with a smile.

At first I wasn’t going to accept her help. The fact that B did it was, in fact, my responsibility. I don’t need help; I can do this on my own.

Then I stopped. I realized I don’t accept help that often. So I let her help, just to see what would happen.

She mentioned that she had designs these things for another store, and that this material was so flimsy.

Hmm…she’s got a point.

“He” (meaning my son) doesn’t need to feel bad about it, she said. I told her he was having a rough day and she nodded in agreement.

At least it wasn’t spaghetti sauce, I thought.

Then she says, it’s so odd having it here, and not in a refrigerated display.

Hmm…yeah, why are cheese wedges in a bread aisle?

Then as we are trying finish stacking the wedges they don’t even fit properly. We laughed at our cluelessness about our stacking ability.

We got all the cheese wedges “kinda” back up in place and sheepishly look at our mangled mess. Then I graciously thanked her. She said no problem and we went our separate ways. That was it. I kept wanting to say more to her, but decided to keep my big mouth shut for once.

During our stacking debacle, Husband was able to calm B down. We quickly finished our shopping. We didn’t say a word about the display. But I can’t help thinking about the lady in purple and how she made me believe that sometimes people just want to help. Just because.

To the lady in purple: thank you.


About OneLoCoMommy

I live in Northern Virginia and and I look like the stereotypical suburban mom, for better or for worse. My son plays baseball and takes karate (albeit adaptive). My daughter is a gymnastics diva but rolls with the boys in T-ball. I've been a Room Mom and Playdate Coordinator. I work full-time, try to work out, and love my Book Club. However, I also blog on my experiences on our ASD, SPD and ADHD journey while trying to be a better parent advocate. All in a life's work.
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