The Button
in Giggles on November 9, 2015
So, I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a crappy couple of days. Is it Monday? It feels like it should be Monday. This Monday has been dragging on and on and on for days… Enough already! I had a hunch that today was headed straight for the gutter when I attempted to get dressed. That’s right folks–attempted.
The first go-round was not successful. Repeat: was not successful.
Take a good, hard look at that picture. Notice anything that might be missing? Anything that might be useful when fastening one’s jeans? Anything such as a BUTTON?!!! Here’s a little fun fact for you, the button was there when I put on the jeans. The button was there as I secured said button through the button hole. The button was even present as I zipped the zipper. However, as I reached for my shirt, the button protested and propelled with such force away from me that I feared a projectile missile had been launched into my closet. In fact, the only remains of the button are what you see in the picture. I am quite certain the actual button itself was burned up on impact as it embedded deeply into recesses of my closet, never to be seen again.
Buttons.
After that little jaunt into the world of high fashion, I opted for PJ pants. But it got me thinking about other kinds of buttons. We all have “buttons” and I don’t mean the buttons that fly off of our pants and zing into unforeseen areas of our closets. We have those extra-special buttons that still have the power to rattle and unnerve us just as badly, but are, for the most part, unseen.
Let me ask you something, who pushes your buttons? Is your children? Your mother? Your spouse? Your in-laws? Or perhaps, it is that super-special-person at work that makes the skin crawl right off of your bones and slither down the nearest drain…we have all those people. They get in your head and under skin. And when these particular people moved into your brain, they take up residency and invade your every waking thought…and even some of your sleeping thoughts as well…
I’ve been waking up a night thinking about my “button-pusher.” Why do we let other people control our thoughts and our actions? That’s about as stupid as me getting upset over popping a button off of ten-year-old blue jeans. Sometimes buttons come off. Sometimes people are crazy. They can’t help it. Sometimes we have to just put on our pajama pants and chalk up the day as a loss and try again tomorrow.
Buttons. They are a finicky thing.
Here’s hoping your day is button-popping great!
-Dallas