I have people in my life who are better to me than I am to them. Who send sweet text messages just to see how my day is going, or funny pics that made them think of me. Who come over during the first days of the move just to clean and move debris from the yard. Who make me handmade bracelets and barbed wire crosses, just because.
And who are funny.
Me: I’m going to steal a pic of you off FB for the blog – I promise it’s nice.
Angie: Sure, if you think it won’t scare off your followers. I don’t want to be responsible for the collapse of your blogging empire. (Do you note sarcasm? I noted sarcasm.)
Me: They’ll probably be all, “Oh dang, who is that? Imma stalk her now.”
Angie: Sweet! I’ve been wanting a stalker for a long time.
If you know of any handsome, cowboy-types looking for someone to stalk full-time, applications can be sent directly through me.
Anyway, we had a lunch date at delicious Chipotle and I wanted to give her a little something, so I made her one of my dryer vent punkins. Trying to think ahead, I left it in the car so she wouldn’t have to juggle it AND her giant burrito.
Stupid Kansas. Stupid, dumb sweltering September heat. Stupid, idiot me for leaving a hot glued item in an oven of a car.
Me, wailing and shaking my fist at that snarky sun: NOOOOOO!!!
Angie: It’s totally fine. I can just glue it back together when I get home. By the way, I brought you this…
All I could do was humbly hang my head in shame. A buffalo, because buffalo. A horseshoe to place above our door for good luck. And a rake head for my wine glasses.
She handed me the rake head and I immediately dropped it on the ground. That’s why they call me *Grace McSuavey.
*No one calls me that.
The moral of the story is this: It’s nice to be nice.
Because of Angie, and so many others in my life who are better to me than I am to them, (you know who you are) I want to be better. More thoughtful. More giving. Nice for the sake of being nice.