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Crazy Lady on the Loose

By Belinda

Tonight after cell group, Susan and I sat our the gray-green back room. The colour, called, "Sparrow," by Benjamin Moore, reminds me of the North Sea, and I love it. 

The crickets and cicada's chirped and sang loudly through the windows that I had just wound open to let the in the summer field symphony and a little cool evening breeze. 

Both our homes are in the throes of being organized; ours after a long series of renovations, and Susan's after one set of married children has left, and another son is about to leave for university on the east coast.

Susan said that what drives her CRAZY is when people leave things in her laundry room, like piles of clothes or stuff in the dryer, or things that don't belong in a laundry room.

"Do you know what drives ME crazy?" I asked. I didn't wait for an answer, but went on, "It's when people go in MY tool box, borrow things, and DON'T put them back!" 

I have my own little tool box for simple jobs like hanging pictures. It isn't sophisticated or anything, just filled with a supply of wire, screws, picture hooks, a level, a hammer, a set of screwdrivers, a pencil, and a few other odds and ends--including a very necessary retractable measuring tape. I don't have a lot of stuff, but when I need it I count on it being there to use.

With new colours on the walls at last, I wanted to hang pictures but I found that the measuring tape that used to be in the box had vanished. Paul had replaced it, bless his heart, and I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but the tape was thin, limp, and as useful as a piece of string. Okay I was ungrateful.

The day I went out to Costco to look for pictures, I stopped at Canadian Tire on the way home to pick up a new solid measuring tape. I stood in front of the display rack for a few minutes deliberating, and came out with a Stanley measuring tape with a long life, nylon coated blade. It was perfect and I took it to the cash register with a sense of great satisfaction.

I plonked it on the counter top beside a other few purchases and when the man in front of me gathered his stuff to leave, overcome with excitement and having the urge to share it, I picked up the tape  and looked at the teenager about to ring in my items, and said, "This is MINE. And my husband is not touching it!"

Have you ever cracked a joke and known instantly that the other person didn't get it? At all?

The girl said, "O...kay...," slowly, with a straight face, and proceeded to ring in the items without another word. 

The silence fell around us. I felt as though I had morphed into "crazy lady," and as though she was thinking, "I have a strange one here, better just stay calm and do my job."

Crazy Lady gathered her bags and probably to both of our relief, left the store as fast as possible. 

It probably served me right for being so possessive of my measuring tape. 

Or perhaps that should be, "ours." :)

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