The Most Wonderful Gift

Today ended a most eventful weekend in my family. Today, we celebrated my mother's birthday. While I won't give away her age, I will say she's getting older. And as we know as you get older, things don't work as well as they did before . . . not without some help anyway. However, my brother and I did something very special for my mother on her birthday.

But first -- I'll have to set the scene. (I heard that! Don't swear at me!)

My mother has been stuck in the house for the last couple weeks because of the breakdown of systems I mentioned earlier. Both her knees have arthritis. The received a cortizone injection in the one that was swelling the most a week ago. She strained her rotator cup in her left shoulder along with locking it up, so she has almost no movement in it. She can't walk with her friends around the block. She can't go to her sewing group and chat it up with the ladies. Suffice it to say, she can't do much.

I am blessed with a tightly knit family. We call each other often to check up on each other. But calls from each other are always accepted and enjoyed. So when my brother called me up last Monday, I thought it would be another "How are you? How are classes? Now I'm going to complain about my in-laws." But no. He surprised me.

"What's your thought about me flying down this weekend for Mom's birthday?"

Are you kidding?! It would be great!

And that got the ball rolling. It also started a small game of deception and a string of little white lies -- but we can look over that.

Previously, the Florida relatives had all agreed to meet up at my parents place on Sunday to throw a little birthday party for my Mother. All that week, my parents were anxious to know whether I'd be coming down. I led them along with -- "Well, I don't know with all the home work I'm going to be doing. Can I call you later in the week?" Of course, by that time I've already received the flight information from my brother, and have pre-planned my homework around that schedule. Finally, I think it was Thursday when I said -- "I think I can spend the weekend with you. Mind if I come down Saturday?" So, the plan was set. And the best part -- no one knew.

My brother's flight was scheduled to arrive at 10:30 pm Friday night. However bad weather and a slight detour postponed his arrival two hours. We didn't get to sleep until 2 am. He bunked up on my couch; not the most comfortable thing in the world to sleep on.

We got ourselves ready and got out the door by 9:30 am in the morning, which was quite a feat since I slept terribly that night. We made out way down the interstate to our parents' house. My brother called them while we were driving and told them that he was going out for a bike ride and that is was seasonably cool. What a son; lying to his mother.

In short. They were floored. They were expecting me to get out of my car. They weren't expecting a second body to get out of it. They even thought I had brought down one of my room mates because they didn't recognize my brother's hair cut. The look of genuine shock on my Dad's face was exciting since, we've never really shocked him like this before. When my brother walked into the house, Mom's expression was a mix of in credulousness and shock. She was brought to tears when he helped her to her feet and wrapped him up in a big hug.

She didn't need any presents for her birthday. She had both her boys.

Professional Attire?

I'm going to start this off with a disclaimer:

I am a guy. I am built with an eye toward sexual things. Give a guy a flash of skin, and he'll start drooling like a blonde looking at something shiny.

Having said that, I'll delve into a little story and then to my point. Or, you can skip over these paragraphs and go straight to the point. I don't care.

I was turning in my rent check today to the leasing office of my apartment complex. Usually, there's a receptionist behind the desk that flashes a smile and the requisite, "How may I help you?". However, today, there was this college-age girl sitting behind the desk, intently fiddling with something on her computer screen. The screen temporarily blocked my view of her since its so huge. But as I approached the desk to fork over my check, I was struck at her state of attire.

She was dressed in a blue top and black pants. That I'm fine with. She had a professional demeanor. That I'm fine with too. What I'm not fine with was the fact that her chest was being pushed out of her low-cut neckline top. While, being male, I'm not objecting, per se. I'm objecting to her lack of self image and professional projection.

For a while now, I've heard women's groups lobbying for equality in the workplace. These professional women project themselves well, and effectively neuter themselves in suits and conservative dresses. This woman (girl) hasn't grown up yet to adequately portray herself in a professional manor. She's still a high school girl expressing her sexuality. And what better way then to have your boobs practically falling out.

There could be lots of reasons for her to dress this way. She's naturally well endowed, so she didn't have a choice. Her clothing options were limited. She didn't have anything conservative in her closet.

Maybe it's something wrong in the way I look at people. Maybe I am too conservative. I've been trained to think that way, becoming a teacher. Maybe I should just tolerate it and enjoy the view? Or does that turn me into a sexist pig that automatically objectifies women?