This is not the kind of story I want to share, but sometimes it's good to expose the ugly in order to see the beautiful.
Wednesday night we needed to pick up meds at Wal-Mart and I didn't have a meeting after school, so we met to eat at the sandwich shop, which is attached to the Wal-Mart, grab Libby's meds and supplies for the Happy Halloween carnival.
We eat at national sandwich shop generally because of convenience and actual veggies for the kid. (If food can be connected to another stop then I'm usually in since I never know how many ins and outs Libby has in her.)
We ordered as usual and when we went to ask for Libby's veggies on a separate plate, we were told that we would have to pay for the plate. We asked why since we've never paid for a small plate or bowl and have done this at these places all over the state. (It's harder for Libby to chew and swallow the meat, bread and veggies- so we separate them. Then we cut them up into her bite size pieces.)
We were told we'd have to pay or we could use a napkin to put her veggies on and cut them on there. I reminded them of the need to try to be accommodating. I am sure there are accessibility laws in which such establishments should provide some accommodations. We didn't want extra veggies, just didn't want to cut up her veggies on a napkin. (There was no offer to cut up her veggies to solve the problem.) We took our food- sans bowl or plate- and used large soda lids to cut up her veggies and feed her from. Never had this kind of issue before.
A gentleman came up and while leaning over Libby to talk to us handed us a salad bowl and said, "Here, I got this for you because I wanted you to know that you both behaved deplorably. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Ashamed of yourselves as parents. You should be ashamed at your offensive behavior of other people. Now one should treat other people in the way that you did." Now, this is a younger man who I am thinking works for this restaurant and is upset because I asked repeatedly why I would need to pay extra to feed my child there. I'm still feeding Libby and he's still talking. Our response was along the lines places of "what?" Giving Libby a bite, "I'm sorry you feel that way, we didn't mean anything bad and weren't trying to be rude- we simply wanted something to cut up the kids veggies on." After our little berating, I asked him to leave us alone and allow us to eat the meal we had paid for. After he walked off, I burst into tears. I DON'T CRY: well, often, easily or enough.
Couldn't stop crying. I was so hurt and embarrassed. Libby is now upset because she doesn't see me cry and is very susceptible to my emotions (poor kid).
Rachael went over to talk to the young man and he reminded her that we are deplorable people who need to be ashamed and that he didn't need to speak to her any longer. She even asked him if knew that he had made us cry and he replied that it's "a lesson learned". (We are still very calm and quiet and yet I felt like I had to shuffle Rachael away since we didn't have bail money.) I did say with all of the symbolism I could muster that "it's okay, he's the one sitting at the handicapped table here." Which he was sitting at a table marked Handicapped.
I do reserve the North-Sider in me for much more important issues; I promise we were not being ugly. And I do know that I have some crazy to release, my Crazy She was not let loose this time.
We didn't finish eating, couldn't, but made sure Libby was done and went to pick up our meds. Guess who works in the pharmacy? Yep... mister "Corrector of all that is deplorable" works in the same pharmacy which dispenses the medicines that keep my kid alive.
Oh irony, thou are quite vicious.
We had to pick up the remaining supplies for the upcoming Halloween carnival, which is Saturday. I did a Sam's run on Tuesday for the requisite nacho cheese and concession stand chips and wouldn't have another chance until Friday night for the supplies. We had to complete the walmart list today.
I finally quit crying, got Libby's meds, called Grandma Linda and Momma the Hun April from the store to whine about our treatment and to make sure that we had a reason for our intermittent tears.
Two days later and I still can't believe what happened.
We've had our last sandwich from that place and I'll be switching our meds to another pharmacy which makes me sick to my stomach. I cried from sheer embarrassment yesterday telling the story and no, it's not a hormonal time for me- I really am that hurt. Just shows how little we are treated with malice or meanness.
I internalize everything and I realize that this may have been a huge mirror to myself and to keep me in check. Not everyone can understand that there are some small needs that can be filled. A simple gesture goes a long way to help others. I hate it that Rachael caught the brunt of this young man's words, because she would never deserve to be spoken to that way. She is the best human being I know. And I am really hurt by the fact that Libby witnessed someone saying things like this about us in front of her. No child should have to hear that.
And when we, myself included, are being self righteous, no one prospers and no one's spirit is elevated. The high and mighty are running over others to make themselves feel better and the lower folks are simply getting more tracks on their backs.
As for me, I apologized to the workers at the sandwich place and left the bowl with them and a little note. A simple, heartfelt prayer. ( I am sure this napkin was already in my purse and not from the sandwich place.)
Maybe I needed to be Be-Littled in order to try to Be-Bettered. Not above, just stronger. And continue to pray that no one else ever has the need to ask for a plate to feed their child on.
