I do my best to throw thanks around to any and all people I meet – we all need it, and all thank yous have value. I’m great at in-person thank yous, but I am terrible at the written ones – you know, the one with an envelope, address and a stamp. Seriously, I just can’t.
Sometimes a quick thank you doesn’t express the gratitude I feel, and most of the time, the gratitude I feel in a particular moment would be met with strange stares. In an effort to give some thanks in writing, here is a running list of my current light-hearted thank yous.
Thank you, deli worker at our grocery store.
Thank you for the cookies. When we grocery shop, we are required (by kid law) to stop and ask for a cookie at the deli. Thank you for the day that you gave each of my boys a cookie, and then handed me two more cookies and said with a wink, “these are for when they finish those halfway through the store.” Thank you for assuming my kids could show enough restraint to make one cookie last for five or six aisles (we were still in produce when the last crumb hit the floor), and thank you for not showing judgment at our request for cookies at 9:15am.
Thank you, offspring.
Thank you for listening to me lecture you on wasting food when you chose not to eat your Cheerios. You listened as I explained that you would have to go hungry until lunchtime because you had suddenly decided you didn’t like the taste of that cereal. The cereal I specifically bought for you because you requested it. Thank you for eating a few more bites when I proclaimed no one would get up from the table until his bowl was half empty. And a very special thank you for showing me grace when I finally discovered it was the milk that was bad, not the cereal. And thank you for not questioning me when I stopped lecturing and started freely handing out Poptarts as a olive branch of peace.
Thank you, McDonald’s Playplace.
Thank you for being my refuge on rainy mornings when my children are crazy people. Thank you for having cheap coffee for the days it seems so hard to make coffee for myself. Thank you for providing me a place where I can watch my children happily run, jump, and slide. And a special thank you to the gathering of old men who enjoy mornings together over coffee and sausage biscuits and the belly laughs they give when one of my children runs, full force into a large glass window.
Thank you, husband.
Thank you for making grocery store runs for the one thing I went to the store to purchase but forgot (most likely culprit: toilet paper). Not only do you never complain, but you rarely come home without a treat. Ice cream, Doritos, gummy worms – you know the key to my heart. Even when I say I don’t need anything else, you find something to bring home anyway. That’s my kind of man, ladies.
Thank you, Crocs.
I am the first to admit I have not always been grateful for you. In fact, I have been a protester of your products for so many years, but then something changed. Two somethings – my boys. Your shoes are cute on little boy feet, they are versatile, and most importantly, they can be put on by a clumsy 3-year-old, saving mommy valuable seconds when it was time to leave five minutes ago. I love Crocs – there I said it. You’ve made me a believer.
Thank you, pharmacist.
Thank you for asking me, not my child, if he could have a sucker while we waited for our prescription. I got to say no to you, and not him. You did not know that he had one sucker before we went to the doctor because it made his throat feel better and another as we left because that’s just what you do when you leave the doctor’s office. He would have readily said yes, and you gave me the opportunity not to look like a jerk.
Thank you, Netflix.
Thank you for helping me understand the true (parent) meaning of “Netflix and chill.” I start Netflix, and my kids (and I) chill. Sure, TV isn’t supposed to be a babysitter, but sometimes mommy needs the kids to quit running from one end of the house to another. And while I’m at it, another thanks is in order to the “Are you still watching?” feature. I know some people feel that the question is super judgy, but I find it a helpful tool to assess my binge watching (or the binge watching I’m allowing for my children).
Thank you, waitress.
Thank you for understanding when I said that my children would split a kids meal. When you brought the food, not only did we get the extra plate we asked for, you had the food split for us (and gave me an extra bag of teddy grahams), saving this mommy precious time and keeping me from having to split food (and count an even amount of teddy grahams) in a small space.
Thank you, Lego directions.
Thank you for the details. Because of your detailed pictures, I can enjoy playing Legos with my sons. I do not do building projects well when it’s just for fun or imaginary play, because according to my kids, I never play right. But if you give me directions or step-by-step pictures, I am suddenly mom of the year! I can build a dump truck, you guys, with movable parts!
