Reactions

When you meet someone new, it takes a while to adjust to his ways of being, to know how he's going to react in a given situation. When a mishap occurs, you are apprehensive about the outcome. Will he explode? Will he be more concerned with alleviating my fears than with expressing his displeasure or anger? Will he just brush it off, machts nichts?

The other day I was in the Gardener's garden. I took my fairly new prescription reading glasses off and laid them on a table. Half an hour later I went back to find them and couldn't. About ten minutes later the Gardener walked into the room, carrying my squashed and severely disfigured glasses. It seems the cat had decided to play a little solitaire hockey with my glasses and they wound up underfoot. Literally. I imagine the Gardener must have been concerned with the reaction he would get from me. I think I laughed or said "oh well." I know I didn't explode. I know I didn't react as certain men in my past would have reacted.

And my nonreaction came without thought — just automatic "no big deal." When I reflected, hours later, on the incident, I was quite proud of myself.

And greatly relieved for the Gardener. At least he's seen my gut reaction to an accident involving personal property. Let's see — what's next on the list?