The whole population of the Little-House-On-The-Corner is running an hour behind.
Coldwater showers, no coffee, and scraping the windshield while still damp in my clothes makes the morning a little unrelaxed.
I pull into the drive-thru of the Yellow Arches.
The warning color of cholesterol. And trans-fat.
And those killer golden fries.
I sit, waiting, in front of the speaker box.
No cheery voice.
Not a squeak.
I clear my throat, feeling a little neglected, my frustration growing.
"Uh. Hello?"
Nothing.
An attitude begins to grow.
It's gonna be one of-
"Sorry-for-the-wait-may-I-help-you".
I order, making sure to emphasis two strawberry jellies.
I can't handle grape jelly.
Back in the days of my childhood, products were not made specifically for children.
Like 14 flavors of Children's Tylenol in an easily ingested liquid form.
Nope. We had aspirin.
And grape jelly.
Mom would smash an adult aspirin between two spoons.
This transformed the loathsome tasting tablet into a spoonful of dust, some small bits, and three large chunks of gagging whiteness.
She would then mix it into a spoonful of grape jelly and insert the concoction into young, protesting mouths.
A certain taste hits my brain when I see grape jelly.
And I don't care if it is named Smuckers.
Uh-uh. No sir.
Not in this mouth.
I pull up to the window, holding out the cash.
I take the white bag of fast manna from the harried manager who usually is personable, but seems confused and rushed.
I got this feeling.
I pull ahead into a parking space and check the bag.
Okay.
Stuff's here.
I move the napkin away from the bottom of the bag.
Grape jelly packets.
Grape.
Two of them.
I slump back in my seat, doing my best impersonation of Indiana Jones as he looked down into the desert crypt. ("Raiders of the Lost Ark")
("Grape...
Why does it gotta be grape...)
My righteous anger begins to grow. Hey.
I'm the customer!
I supposed to have it my way!
Okay - wrong store and commercial, but still...
Then He puts a thought in my head.
"Did the manager seem ... normal?"
Well.
No.
No, he didn't.
"So, what do you make of it?"
Uh.
Maybe the whole crew didn't show. He's a few guys down, maybe?
"Hmmm. What else?"
He's young.
Maybe they have a new baby and he's been up all night taking care of it.
Because his wife is working a night shift trying to make ends meet.
Wow.
There could be a ton of reasons I should cut the kid some slack.
Show him some mercy.
Then I hear Him chuckle softly.
"Mercy.
Makes it about the other guy and not yourself, doesn't it?
The opposite of Pride."
Huh.
And where would I be without His mercy?
I put the car into gear and head to work.
Okay.
I've been shown great mercy.
And He wants me to be like Him.
So I can show mercy.
I will do that.
But I'm still not eatin' grape jelly.