The Best Girl in All the World

"Yes," said Winnie-the-Pooh. "I see now. I have been Foolish and Deluded," said he, "and am a Bear of No Brain at All."

"You're the Best Bear in All the World," Christopher Robin said soothingly.

"Am I?" said Pooh hopefully. And then he brightened up suddenly. "Anyhow," he said, "it is nearly Luncheon Time."

And he went home for it.

Pooh and I have a lot in common. First of all, he is blonde. (If bears can be blonde.) Second, he keeps track of mealtimes and is sure to never miss them. Third, he is loved, despite all the silly things he says, by Someone. For me, that someone is Mr. Robotface Shumway. And I often feel like Pooh...wishing hopefully for the Someone's approval.

When I get nervous, I say silly things. Like how much the jeans I'm wearing cost, how much my babies weighed at birth, how I felt towards my sister in high school, or how much Mr. Shumway makes per year. I just babble on, saying random obscure things, wishing someone would put me out of my misery, but everyone is too busy trying to figure out what is wrong with me to do anything. All too often these incidents lead to embarrassment for all concerned.

Sunday, I talked Mr. Shumway into going into the furniture store where they sold the sectional I dearly wanted. Mr. Shumway had agreed we could purchase said sectional "sometime in the future." Knowing that future would never arrive unless I helped it along, I encouraged him to stop at the store.

Now, I was thinking of two things going in:
Mr. Shumway did NOT like going into furniture stores
AND
he said to me as we went in, "I don't want to be followed around by a salesperson the whole time like we were on our last visit."

Those two things were on my mind, people, when Michelle walked up.

She smiled. I broke out in a cold sweat. She held out her hand. My eyes rolled back in my head. (Well, not really, but in my imagination they were.) I have no idea what Mr. Shumway was doing. I was just too concerned about making sure Michelle didn't follow us around because then maybe Mr. Shumway would want to leave and this whole trip would be for nothing. So me, being me, jumped in and started babbling.

I told Michelle that we were just looking. But oh no, I didn't stop there. I told her that we'd been there before, but were back, just looking. I said that we couldn't remember the name of the lady who'd helped us but that she'd followed us around. I told her that we didn't want to be followed around. WE JUST WANTED TO BE LEFT ALONE! DON'T FOLLOW US! (pant, pant)

Michelle blinked. She just stood there and blinked. "Well, I HAVE to greet you."

Of course. How stupid of me. Excuse my dorkiness, really. I just run off at the mouth sometimes, I thought.

"Well, that was awkward," Mr. Shumway said as we walked away. "Maybe next time, you should let me talk."

I deflated. I felt the fool. I started wondering if I could corner Michelle later and explain that even though I can be a dork, I'm not really that mean and weird and will she please be my friend?

The whole time I was there, I kept seeing her from the corner of my eye. When she talked to a co-worker and he laughed, I was sure she was telling him about the crazy lady with the blonde hair. When she walked in the other direction from us, I was sure she was avoiding us on purpose.

But despite my paranoid imagination, she approached us later. It seems the other saleslady was with a customer and the manager was unavailable, so would be OK for her to help us? To my surprise, Mr. Shumway said it was OK with us if it was square with the other lady and if so, we were ready to order.

He patiently endured filling out endless paperwork and thirty minutes later, we walked out, the owners of a new sectional. Since we've only actually purchased 3-4 furniture items in our whole lives, (the rest are hand-me-downs) this was a significant moment.

He hugged me as we walked out into the cold, misty winter's night. "That turned out well for Michelle," he said. He could have brought up my ineptness at the beginning of our visit. He could have talked about how awkward I'd been. But instead he just hugged me. And I knew that, despite my babbling, despite my awkwardness, he thought I was the Best Girl in All the World.