In the grocery store today an old woman helped me feel good about myself. As I was walking by an elderly woman stopped me and said, "You’re tall aren’t you?"
Well I’m no Yao Ming, but I do manage to come even to the six foot mark in my stocking feet. And compared to the Estelle Getty look-alike in front of me I was a giant. She had taken me out of my Zen study of the many flavors of marinara sauce so I retorted with a very intelligent,
"Can you help me sonny? I can’t quite reach the soup on that shelf." [I swear on my copy of Bartlett’s quotations she actually said sonny.] "The vegetable beef one way up on top."
I handed her the can of vegetable beef and the other four cans that she wanted as well as she told me that this was going to be her dinner tonight and "didn’t the clam chowder look tasty?". The mother of three behind her was starting to smile and I think Estelle saw my eyes laugh a little too so she started to apologize for bothering me. I should have said it was no bother and that actually she had made my day because I was able to help someone just by having the right genes to reach the top shelf. Instead I laughed and said it something lame like "it was no big deal" and moved on to the cereal aisle.
[Update: It wasn’t until a day later, when we were supposed to have spaghetti for dinner, that I noticed I never put the sauce in my cart.]