Skip to main content

All We Need is a Little Patience

Patience. Some people have it. I, however, do not.
Some days I think I do, then all I have to do is slide in behind the wheel of a vehicle and I realize, what a facade. Patience is not one of my virtues. And really, I am not sure why people think it is so important. I get through life just fine with my short fuse. What's wrong with a little anger? Nothing, I say. And if you disagree, well I have no patience for you.

Traffic, or rather other vehicles on the road in general, will always set me on edge. Whatever semblance of patience I may have thought I had, is blown right out the window. For the most part, I can dispel my feelings of vehicular ire by cursing a blue streak in the privacy of my own vehicle. And I am quite sure I could make a sailor blush at the variety of vulgar language I can come up with while driving. I am an extremely creative, non-patient person.

 I do have to give myself some credit, I actually have a wee bit more tolerance than I used to back in the day. The kid has forced me into a bit of understanding. My child can, and does, talk non-stop. And I am not exagerating. He started talking at a freakishly early age, and has not stopped. I kid you not. You kind of just have to go with it. Nodding and mm-hmming through your day. Until you realize you have agreed that you are making jell-o and fries for dinner and given him your credit card to buy Lego online.

 Now you may argue that that is not patience. But you are wrong. By the time I have agreed to jell-o, fries and UPS delivery of Lego, you have no idea of what I have endured. Multiple hours of stories of Transformers, Batman, Lego, Lego and more Lego. My house is filled with, of course, Lego, Hot Wheels and Transformer bits. I step on more transformer parts than you would think is humanly possible. I have fallen down an entire flight of stairs at the hands, or rather arm, of a Transformer. The fact that I do not have a molten pile of plastic toy snippets in my backyard proves that somewhere in me, is patience.

 Learning patience is a backwards kind of trip. In the words of Stanislaw J. Lec, "You must first have a lot patience to learn patience." So, what's the point? Too much patience and you will get walked all over. Not enough patience, apparently, isn't good either. I say screw it. I like my fiery nature. Makes life interesting. If I was ho-humming it every day, what the hell would I have to talk about? So I am sticking to my guns. I am just dandy with what I have, or in this case, don't have. 

 And speaking of guns... I really have some Guns N Roses Patience stuck in my head now. I apologize, I am sure you are now facing the same fight with Axl now. Damn him and that catchy whistling.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Restaurants, Long Weekends and Resentment

Do you have a bathroom? After years of being in the restaurant business, I cannot express the happiness I feel at the prospect of having a long weekend off! Long weekends in a restaurant mean more work, longer hours and resentful thoughts to all those happy travellers who stop in and ask "do you have a bathroom?" To which you are always tempted to say, no, sorry we don't, there's a bucket out back you can use though. Do you have a bathroom? I am always shocked when I hear people ask this question, what the heck!? Of course, there is a bathroom! Whether you can use it or find it, now that is the real question. "Do you have a menu?" Nope, sorry we aren't that type of restaurant. "Is everything you have on the menu?" No we have a secret menu too, but we only show that to people we like. Last table in the restaurant... "Oh sorry, are we holding you up?"   Would you like something to drink... "No- I'll hav...
Post a Comment
Read more

Ruffling my Feathers

  I received my first “call from the principal” last week. He informed me that Gus had been in a fight. I am pretty sure my “I don’t give a @#$*” attitude surrounding the call did not go unnoticed.   However, I know my kid and if he got in a fight, well 1 of two things happened 1) his little fiery Greek temper reared its ugly head (that’s hereditary – so to be fair how can you get mad at a kid for his heritage??) or 2) someone really pissed him off. It seems it was the latter. It all had to do with a ball. I would venture to guess that this is what most 10 year old boys fight over; ball possession.   Seems the “victim” of this fight stole a ball and wouldn’t give it back when asked politely and then not so politely with a shove as he walked away. As it were, it came to fisticuffs. Later, when having the “talk” about the altercation, Gus explained to me, that after the first push by him, the other boy pushed him to the ground and started wailing on ...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Sock, The Dog & The Aftermath

At approximately 5pm Thursday March 19th an incident occurred.   It was an error on my part, but also WTF?  I was busy cooking dinner, chicken breasts with olive oil were on the stove. I was happily frying away when I went to flip a breast and a giant glob of boiling hot oil/chicken goo flew from my spatula and landed directly landed onto my socked foot. My foot began to feel the burn and I quickly pulled my sock off and threw it aside. Disaster averted. Or so I thought. I continue to make dinner and the sock remains on the floor. As dinner is nearly done Apollo awakes from his nap, spots the sock and in turn has found himself a new toy. He picks up the sock and begins to play. I partake in this game for a few minutes letting him run and frolic with the sock. But dinner is nearly ready. Enough!  I use my best authoritative voice and say, “Apollo! Come. Sit. Drop!” He stops his zoomies around the kitchen island and follows the first two commands beau...
2 comments
Read more