So here's the story. My cousin and his wife used to live in Arlington and were generous enough to let me live with them one semester in college. After I moved out they lived there for another couple of years before they moved back to San Antonio. During that time, they asked me to housesit or babysit from time to time, which I was glad to do.
They once asked me to dog-sit their dog "Whitie" for them while they went to San Antonio for the weekend. I gladly obliged. All I had to do was go over there daily to let him out and keep him fed and watered.
|my awful college ID|
I was off at some church college group function at someone's house and all of the sudden I remembered that I was supposed to be dog-sitting. It was SUNDAY night. I nervously sped over to their house in a mad rush, hitting the steering wheel several times and reciting, "Crap, crap, crap," over and over, hoping to get there before they did.
I speedily parked by their curb...as they were unloading the car. My cousin's wife greeted me and apologies and excuses spewed out of my mouth. I was so embarrassed and sorry. I felt so bad for little Whitie. He used to get bladder infections because he would hold it for so long because he would refuse to pee inside the house (dream dog), and the poor little guy held it for as long as he could. Needless to say, he was also quite thirsty and hungry.
I tried apologizing to my cousin as he was stomping by to finish unloading and quietly raging at me. Without even looking, he snapped at me, "Apologize to Whitie." My heart sank. He was so mad at me. And rightfully so.
I saw Whitie, and I think I tried to give him a little cuddle and apologized profusely. I offered to my cousins to help clean up, but they just wanted me out of there. I walked back to my car with my head hung in shame.
It took a while for them to get over that - and I patiently carried out my sentence. I would have been so mad at myself, too. Whitie, on the other hand, always hated me after that. He would growl and snap at me and remind me of what a reprobate I was.
As we were recounting the story, yet again, this past Thanksgiving, while being extremely happy that we can all laugh about it now (although my cousin doesn't always chuckle very heartily), I'm reminded that it's great to grow older.
Youth is fun, but gosh I sure was stupid. I really didn't think I was, either. I was just a silly little girl learning how to navigate life. Now, I'm 33 years old, and even though I'm older and have learned a little more about navigating life, I still feel like a silly little girl that has a LOT to learn about life.
I don't quite think I know it all anymore, and that's the great thing about getting older. The older you get, the more humbled by life you get (hopefully).