Everybody Says

Posted by Jeffrey Griffin on 9/14/2014 5:00:00 AM

Few things in the world, or perhaps it is more appropriate to say "few moments" in the world, can ever honestly boast to be an "everybody thinks" moment.
"Everybody thinks...
Everybody says...
Everybody wants..."
I have found it to be significantly more likely to say the only time you can accurately say "everybody says" is to say "the only time 'everybody says' anything is never - 'cause everybody never did anything, much less everything so everybody never said nothing."
Now. If, indeed, everybody followed that... please move forward to the next paragraph. If not, please try again from the beginning.
I'm depressed some days. Saturday was one of those days. It hit hard, which is a far cry from hardly hitting, the art of which the Wake Forest offensive line appears to have perfected against powerhouse Utah State. Back to me.
I was depressed. My children, yes my children, were behaving poorly time and time again. Vikki is on the road. She did her best to give me a much-needed pep talk from her hotel room in New Hampshire. It did not work. Before our conversation ended, the love of my life started checking off her "everybody" list... (and my mumbled responses follow)
I love you. (Un-huh.)
Sophia loves you. (I love her. Most days.)
Miles loves you. (Him too.)
Your mother loves you. (That's her job.)
Our lifegroup loves you. (No they don't.)
The kids at school love you. (Because I have the power to fail them.)
Everybody at Wake Forest loves you. (Stop it. I'm the hired help, that's all.)
And so it continued. I was not in the mood. To hear it. To say it. To believe it.
We went to lunch with my mother at Texas Roadhouse. The food was fine. The service was fine. It was loud. The poor behavior from the resident kindergartner and her three-year old brother did not improve. I am not a fan of the chairs and the booths are not intended for large folks. My mother was talkative. It was a meal. No different from a thousand others I've shared with the same, exact people.
That is, until the bill arrived. Six dollars and fourteen cents. "The bill was taken care of by another table. This is just for the dessert." (Ice cream for the children, not me.) The waitress smiled. 
"I don't understand."
"Another table paid for your meal. It was a lady named Jan. And she said 'Go Deacs!'"
Everybody at Wake Forest...
OK. I got it. Point taken. Thank you, Jan, wherever you are.
I'm still not a big believer in "everybody says" but, for today, one was enough.