Devonne Brown

I wouldn’t have been in the grocery store on Thanksgiving morning if I didn’t need to take some dog food and a loaf of bread to my elderly aunt. That’s all she said she needed when I talked to her last night, after I baked her casserole. I would have been at home, binging on Kevin Costner movies, eating cheese and olives, drinking wine from a pretty glass, and avoiding unhappy thoughts. I had already had my shower and it was past 9:00 a.m.

 On Thanksgiving Day, between the soup and baking aisles in the grocery store, a man with a smirk on his face said, “You’re supposed to be in the kitchen aren’t you?” 

O no, he didn’t. 

It was Thanksgiving Day and he’d just rolled his shopping cart over the nerve I was using to keep my shit together. 

He pushed his buggy down the aisle without a care in the world, throwing soups, double stuffed oreos, and things that looked like he’d been sent out to get him out of somebody’s hair. I caught up with him at the frozen chicken wings.

“Excuse me,” I said and put him on full blast. “Why do you think I’m supposed to be in the kitchen?” His mouth fell open but no sound came out. I didn’t wait for an answer. He had nothing to say that I wanted to hear.

I wrestled thirty pounds of dog food off the shelf to work out some of my anger. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. Happy Thanksgiving, I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said, when I hoisted the bag into the shopping cart. If I’d had laser vision, I’d be on the PA system calling for clean up on aisle fifteen and pushed my way to the deli. 

The list in my hand was short. I found the Cool Whip and a pumpkin pie. I even bought eggnog in addition to Diet Cokes to take with me to Aunt Sylvie’s house.

You should be in the kitchen, my ass.

“Should” is one of those sneaky words. It’s actually a demand in comfy clothes that makes you think it’s friendly. Nobody ever said what you “should” do or “should not” do without judgment. I’ve done it too, especially as a teacher. I knew better, still do. I hate the word when it passes my lips. 

The great and powerful Maya Angelou said, “If you know better, do better.” Maya Angelou wouldn’t like me very much, I’m afraid. I know lots of things I should be doing better. 

I think I will make a jar of things with slips of paper that have things on them I should be doing better. I wonder how often I’ll draw one out?