Driscol dratterhanans.
Today, I stopped my car as I lazily left the neighborhood seeking dinner nibs, to climb out and yell down the street at a teen boy. He’d been following a teen girl… oddly. I hadn’t liked the look in his eyes, and in my rear windows caught him bending down, picking up a rock and throwing it at her.
I skooch over a little to make more room for you in the heavily-pillowed quiet area which we sit.
Let’s be real. My “Don’t throw rocks at girls!” exclamation complete with a hand on my hip didn’t rattle him. He grinned like a Cheshire cat and waved, gloating over the fact that I cared and was powerless to stop him…
This is why I’m here in my cozy corner with you, reminiscing the after-feels.
(Oh, do you want a cuppa? You sure? Just let me know. I’ve got hot cocoa, coffee, and eight types of tea. I don’t mind…)
So yeah. I’ll go over the thoughts I had after the exchange as we both burrow into these hoodies, pillows, and puffy comforters. (Sorry I keep it so cold in here. Helps me burrow better.)
Right. My thoughts as I was driving off.
Numero uno: I felt upset the guy was throwing rocks. My excuse for him? He probably liked her. Boys throw rocks at pretty girls. I mean, there’s a Tim Hawkins YouTube video on that. But why the violence? The idea that no one is looking, so it’s okay?
Which brought me to numero dos: Is bad parenting what we are all doomed to? I’m 35, married, and we just miscarried. Gratefully waves off your sympathies. But I pay attention, right? I don’t want to raise a rock-thrower-when-no-one’s-looking teenager. Yeah, they might grow out of it. But what if they don’t?
Burrows deeper.
Then numero tres: I’m an HSP. A “Highly Sensitive Person.” I assume you have some of that since you are sitting here with me. Smiles. I drove away feeling heavy. Heavy because I don’t like violence. But it can’t be escaped. I mean, unless I become hermitty surrounded by acres of land. Of course, giving up city plumbing would be a major stretch for me, so let’s keep that convo for another day, ‘kay? Point is, it’s on every screen, and in many entertainment forms. Even if an HSP is drastically cutting down the outside news flows in life, we are still surrounded by people who partake of the conflicty stuff we try to avoid.
It’s just.
Kinda.
Exhausting.
I guess that’s why I’m glad you stopped by today. Do you try to avoid this kind of stuff, or are you a braver soul than I? What do you think?
Listens for your response.
Cozy Corners With Angela 