What do people really think of a neighborhood's one-person welcome wagon? You know, the gal who shows up on the doorsteps of new residents with a well-organized "welcome packey" that answers a few questions, such as, "When is trash pickup day? Nearest dry cleaner? Best veterinarian in the area?" (I wonder if she'd include laundromat or closest Dollar Tree?)
Kind of like this:
Turns out the people over at Southern Living Magazine think it'd make you an "absolute life-saver," especially if you "pair the info with a measuring cup-worth of homemade Orange Spice Sugar."
Orange Spice Sugar? Should I add it to the raspberry herb rémoulade I have simmering on the stove top? Or blend it into my afternoon mint frappe?
But before I'd let cynicism get the best of me - and after secretly wishing it was a traditional apple pie instead of orange spice sugar - I'd politely say thank you and invite her in, keeping her on the side of the living room that doesn't have a clear-shot into the kitchen...where my cat may or may not be on the counter top licking butter off a leftover frozen waffle.
And if she truly looked anything like the photo, I'd also secretly wish I had changed out of my Madonna Confessions Tour t-shirt someone gave me nearly ten years ago - a shirt I confess to having slept in, painted furniture in, and wiped-up stuff with.
I'm not going to lie, perfect people like her make me want to go eat something. Trying to one-up the neighborhood, are we? (See One-Up.) And I imagine she'd make her "welcome packeys" at a craft center like this:
Now now, Molly. Play nice. I should never judge the one-person-welcome-wagon type. Who am I to decide if she's being genuine or just showing off? I'll leave that up to God - a God who Beth Moore thankfully describes as One who,
"...bases His judgement on truth, knowing what motivates people in the inmost places to act as they do. Knowing the origins of our wrecked-up emotions and inconsistent actions. He alone knows when we're sincere and when we could win an Oscar. He alone knows when our hatefulness was hormones. He knows if someone needs to get a grip or go to a specialist for medication."
And you never know, the next friend God brings my way could very well be the "welcome packey" type. No need to write her off already - or assume she'd write me off. Besides, I've heard it said that "happiness is an unlikely friendship." As unlikely as being given a measuring cup-worth of homemade orange spice sugar? Absolutely.