So I was already fuming and composing furious emails to city government (and I hope the city is flooded with same, hint hint Cvillians) when I saw the two women heading down my driveway. I was still a block from my house, which gave me plenty of time to get even more angry about the fact that the way into my house was blocked by people who would want to talk to me.
Luckily for all concerned, Jon was home and had answered the door by the time I got to the house. He is so much nicer than I am in this sort of situation. Unfortunately, my rage, like vomit, had reached the point at which there was no holding back. "Excuse me, I live here," I snarled and whisked past Jon and the ladies into the house, unceremoniously shoving the hysterical dogs out of my way. I actually slammed the door, something we never do in our house.
"You must be cold," I heard one of the ladies say. She sounded friendly. She was probably a nice person and I was cold and furious and, ultimately, ashamed of myself. It's barbaric to behave that way. I'm always in awe of people who manage to stay cool in all situations. I'm not one of those people, unfortunately. I'm always weeping or yelling or raging and I've been making resolutions to control my temper ever since I was eight and read Little Women and the chapter when Jo lets Amy fall through the ice. But then, another scene from children's lit that profoundly influenced my views on temper is the one from Little Town on the Prairie (which I read at age five) when Laura disrupts the whole school because of her rage at the teacher's unfair treatment of her younger sister. One of my favorite scenes in literature. Maybe if I had read Little Women first, I'd have had better luck with my temper.
|I scanned Garth Williams' illustration from my copy of|
Little Town on the Prairie.
Do you rage or do you keep your cool?