Don't Jump to Conclusions

Posted on July 20, 2015 by Kate Moynihan | 0 comments
This week a man on a mission made my day. It was George Dornbos. He marched into the gallery and announced it was his wife’s birthday and quickly purchased three pieces of Tracy Porter Wanderlust ceramics.  I beamed a smile.

   “Did you notice there’s also a matching salt and pepper?” I asked.
   “That’s nice, but the three pieces are perfect,” he answered.
   I barely said good-bye to George when the phone rang and he was on the line. “Kate, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided on the salt and pepper set. Can you gift wrap it for me and I’ll pick it up after work.”
   “I’ll have it ready to go,” I answered, delighted.
   As I gathered up the salt and pepper set, I reflected on the gallery’s signature birch gift wrap paper that I had used earlier. This fourth present – an extension of the three matching pieces – wouldn’t be much of a surprise for his wife, Joanne, if I used the same paper. It was Joanne’s birthday after all.
   I ran downstairs to my collection of papers I used for family birthdays. I found a perfect scrap of paper that was speckled with colorful balloons.  As I walked past the picture frame production area, I had another thought: What if the box made a rattle when she shook it?  That would surly have Joanne think this gift wasn’t just another piece of pottery.
   After finding a tiny box to insert a few small bits of scrap glass, I slipped the little “rattle-box” into the package along with the salt and pepper set. I wrapped it and tied on a faux silk flower instead of our signature ribbon-shredder bow. I stepped away from the package and admired my handy work feeling pretty pleased with myself.
   Late afternoon George came into the gallery and I gave him the present. As expected George shook the package and it rattled.

   “No, you can’t open it,” I smirked. “It’s Joann’s salt and pepper set. She’ll never guess what’s inside. She’ll be so surprised!”
   “Ah, um … Kate,” George stammered. “The gift is not for my wife.”
   My mouth dropped open and I could feel my face redden and grow hot.
   “The pottery is for my secretary,” George added, his face blank, unreadable.
    I looked down at the floor feeling like a preschooler who forgot to use their “listening ears.” By now, even my not-so-good listening ears were that dark shade of red called crimson.
    “Ah, Kate,” George said, sternly.
    The edge in his voice attracted my attention and I forced myself to glance up at him. We locked eyes.  Finally, he said, “My secretary has a wonderful sense of humor. She’s going to love the surprise!”
    And with that we both cracked up. I hope you can laugh at life’s lessons, too.  Just remember: don’t jump to conclusions.
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