My gray hair is a whistle deterrent.
He was too old to do much whistling anyway.
But as I stepped into an alley to stay in the shade on my way to the annual lupus group summer get-together, the scruffy old guy by the motorcycle called out to me, “Nice outfit!” with a smile on his face that, to my surprise, conveyed a love to and for the whole wide world.
“Thank you!” It wasn’t so much the words, it was the clear generosity in his intent that had me responding in kind. He just totally made my day.
He had no way to know my earlier inner monologue of, That shirt looks frumpy. You can do better.
Well I AM frumpy.
Don’t give me that. You don’t have to look frumpy. You’ll enjoy yourself more if you look better there. You just have to get off your duff and iron something nicer.
And so, ten minutes before it was time to go, I finally turned that iron on and got the job done in a bit of a rush.
He totally made it worth it.
My iron just got its old summer job back.