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Two little words

Here’s one of my biggest pet peeves: It really gets my goat when I hold a door open for someone and they do not acknowledge me.

Is it soooo hard to say thank you? It’s just two little words.

You know what? Words aren’t even necessary.

Just smile. Nod. Make eye contact. For goodness’ sake, do something.

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While we were on vacation a couple of weeks ago, we had several long days of driving. Long. Like, looooong.

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On one particular day, besides having a lot of miles to go, Alyssa got a migraine and needed to rest. For a while.

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It was a long day that got really long.

By (past) dinnertime, we were tired, it was late and we wanted something quick. I found a Pizza Hut on the way in Onawa, Iowa and we headed there.

Onawa, Iowa, by the way, is known for this:

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Also, it’s where the Eskimo pie originally originated.

Anyway.

We went into a Pizza Hut in Onawa, Iowa and the person there said our pizza would be ready in 20 minutes. So, we headed back outside to stretch our legs.

Alyssa and I went out the door and I held it open for Dylan. I couldn’t figure out how he was so far behind us when he had been right there.

I looked back, but it wasn’t Dylan behind me. He had stopped to let someone go in front of him: a man, probably my age, with his hands full of pizza. I continued to hold the door for the poor, pokey man who nearly had more than he could carry.

And then. The poor, pokey man who nearly had more than he could carry walked through the door and right by me.

Like I wasn’t even there. Like the door magically opened on its own to let him out.

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It would be so cool if I could shoot lasers from my eyes.

But since I can’t, I turned to him to say you’re welcome because I felt an urgent need to let him know the importance of saying thank you when you nearly have more than you can carry and someone holds the door open for you.

I opened my mouth to speak, but at that very exact moment, something glorious happened.

No, he didn’t say thank you and redeem himself.

He tripped off the sidewalk.

He didn’t fall, exactly. It was like he missed the step completely and then his feet couldn’t catch up to his body, which was going down, down in an out-of-control slow-motion, one arm flailing while he furiously attempted to keep from dropping the boxes of pizza that were sliding around on the outstretched palm of his other hand.

He never completely regained control, but lucky for him – his car, parked in front of the restaurant, broke his fall and saved the pizza. Well, sort of.

Splat!

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It was so much better than hearing those two little words.

“Alyssa, do you see what happens when you don’t say thank you?” I asked.

She giggled.

After he got himself and his pizza safely inside the car, I sat down in the grass right beside the Pizza Hut and laughed until I cried.

It was such a nice way to end a rough day. Aaaahhhhh.

I probably should’ve thanked him.

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