The other day, I ran into my son’s BFF’s dad at the grocery store.
It was a Sunday morning and I was pretty much wearing pajamas and when I saw him see me, I was afraid he was wondering why a good little pastor’s wife wasn’t at church on Sunday morning, but then I thought he’s probably known me long enough to know I’m not a “good little” anything, so I didn’t bother defending myself against an imaginary accusation by awkwardly trying to fit that I went to church on Saturday into our brief conversation between the grapes and bananas. Plus? I had already made things weird enough when I greeted him with the most uncomfortable hug that has ever transpired between two people, ever, in the history of all hugs.
Have I mentioned that I’m not much of a hugger?
Only 75 times? Ok. Well, let me say it again; I’m not much of a hugger.
But, lately, I have been trying to embrace hugging (get it?). And it’s terrible.
It’s not terrible because hugging is terrible, it’s terrible because MY hugging is terrible. It’s like my brain and my arms belong to two different people and my mouth is caught in the middle of their bickering. My hugs are, like, schizophrenic.
My hugs are mentally ill.
|Super White Jesus makes it look so natural. Sort of.|
As soon as I saw my son’s friend’s dad, my arms began to rise like a hungry zombie, “We are going to hug you, Semi-familiar-Dude-in-the-grocery-store!”, and my brain was like, “WHAT IS HAPPENING?!”. So my arms were indicating they wanted a hug but my face was implying that a hug was a really bad idea. That poor guy. I’m just so confusing, with my arms that say “hug” and my face that says “stab”. But it gets worse! Because. My mouth was going non-stop during this terrible, terrible interaction.
Yeah. My stupid mouth began frantically trying to translate the situation for the victim of my pathetic hug attempt. That’s when what could have been a simple awkward greeting turned into a full blown trip for two to CrazyTown.
As I leaned in, my mouth actually said, out loud, “Oookaaay. Here we go. …We are hugging… Yup. We’re doing this. And a pat on the back. What?!.. Aaannd….DONE. *whew*!!”
OUT. LOUD. You guys.
You know those kids they find after they’ve been lost in the woods for years and years and their only interaction has been with squirrels and beavers and stuff? You might be able to teach them some language and some cultural norms, but they’ll never be quite right… I’m like that. Except without the lost in the woods part.
I think it’s time for me to give up on the whole hugging thing. It’s just too terrible.
Don’t get me wrong, I know some people love hugs and some people are major huggers and that’s cool. But non-huggers should stick to non-huggy things. Like handshakes. Or waving. Or staring at the ground.
The world will be a better place when we can all just be who we are, hugger and non-hugger alike.
Do you hug?… Do you hug well?