What do you do when you have to deal with difficult people? Do you lash back at them? Do you loose your cool? Well, I used to be terrible at dealing with difficult people until I custom mink custom mink custom mink custom mink spent a Saturday afternoon the 3-year old son of my friends Beth and Robert.
Now, Jason (the 3-year old) is not your average kid, he custom mink custom mink custom mink custom mink custom mink custom mink apparently has a near photographic memory because he developed the uncanny ability to record everything I say, weed out the non-interesting stuff, and playback my most incriminating comments to his father–the Southern Baptist Minister.
On this particular Saturday, I was to baby-sit custom mink custom mink custom mink custom mink custom mink custom minkJason. I’d spent the morning unpacking boxes and needed to take the empty boxes to the landfill. How I managed to coordinate ridding myself of boxes and spending time with Jason, I’ll never know. Fate I guess.
So, there we were on our mission to get rid of the empty boxes. I was driving the truck and Jason riding shotgun. I was careful to say very little and encouraged Jason to carry the conversation. As long as Jason speaks he cannot record, obviously multi-tasking skills come later in life.
Everything was going great until I looked in the rear view mirror as one of the boxes flew out of the truck and hit the windshield of the car behind me.
I pulled to the side of the road, but before I could get the door opened the lady from the car behind me was verbally attacking me. This lady screamed about my being a hazard to the highways and irresponsible, she also proceeded to call me everything except a child of God. I was powerless; there was nothing that I could say because the tape recorder was ready to grab every angry word I uttered. All I could do was nod and smile–not my usual response to this kind of abuse.
Finally the lady ran out of steam so I was able to apologize and let her know how grateful I was that she was not hurt. I wasn’t really grateful; I was angry and wanted to call her every name in the book. But I couldn’t, the little tape recorder was still in earshot–I didn’t dare say a thing.
So, biting my lip, I got back in the truck as Jason said, “That lady was mean!”
What was I going to say? What did I dare say?
Then, like hearing a voice from beyond I was given a response just short of genius, I said, “Well, she is probably just having a bad day, we’ll pray for her when we get home.”
What a perfect response. There was absolutely nothing that “Pastor Father” could use against me.
Even though my response to Jason was not sincere, I still had to wonder if little Jason taught me a lesson. Was I a better person because of this time I spent with him?
If I could just learn to keep my cool and only smile and apologize like I did for Jason’s sake (or my sake). I really wasn’t convinced I could pull this off because I was still getting madder and madder. What would I do if Jason sensed my insincerity and spilled the beans to his Dad? I’d probably end up being the topic of Sunday’s sermon–once again. Clearly I had to remain “on guard”; this could go badly at any moment.
Finally, we got to the landfill. Unloading the boxes gave me a few minutes away from Jason. I stomped around the truck and mumbled under my breath–all the while smiling and waving at Jason. I kept reminding myself I just had to “fake it” a little longer, once the boxes were unloaded I could return Jason to the Baptist’s and then I’d go and blow off some steam. I just had to continue the façade a little longer.
As I got back in the truck, Jason turned to me and said, “I prayed for that lady while you were gone.”
Now, didn’t I feel like the biggest heel? All the time I was filled with rage, and 3-year old Jason was praying his little heart out for someone he didn’t even know. I was humbled, and ashamed of myself all at the same time.
It took that little boy to teach me to control custom mink custom mink custom mink custom mink custom mink my anger. I guess from now on, I’d have to give credit to Jason for teaching me how to deal with difficult people.
I was secretly wondering if I’d ever be as big a man as this 3-year old when he turned to me and said quietly, “I prayed that lady was dead.”
Jason is my new best friend.
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