The Pimento Gene

I think that a blessing of age is acceptance. The older I get, the more I simply accept who I am, the good, the bad and the ugly. It’s not about settling for mediocre; it’s about relaxing and knowing that although I have many faults, that is what makes me who I am. With each passing year, I may get creaks in my knees, sore muscles in my back and gray hair, but I am also becoming more comfortable in my own skin.

Some of my positive traits include being kind and caring, compassionate and inclusive. I have always had a heart for those left out, and try to reach out to anyone at any gathering who seems to be outside of the clique. Maybe it’s because I felt left out for so much of my life that God has given me a heart for outsiders.

I also love organization, colored labels, file folders and boxes of all kinds. I love being a homebody and staying home on a cold winter’s night snuggled under a blanket with slippers on my feet. If you add hot cocoa and popcorn, I am in heaven! I love reading, writing and watching Law and Order reruns.

Well, there are some negatives. I am also directionally illiterate, have the patience of a two year old and can come across as pushy when my Type A personality rears its ugly head. And, along with the all of these traits comes what I call the pimento gene. Let me explain.

When Mike and I were first married, long before we were parents, I rushed though the grocery shopping (not a favorite activity), and would mistakenly buy the American cheese with pimento time after time. I just rushed, and didn’t read the label. I bought pimento cheese so many times that it became an inside joke between Mike and me,

Oh, the pimento gene shows itself in other ways. I can tend to overbuy certain groceries when in a rush, and when I don’t look in the pantry before I go shopping. In my past, I have overbought boxes of instant mashed potatoes, Ritz crackers and Italian bread crumbs. This week, the pimento gene showed up once again. I overbought instant oatmeal, the maple and brown sugar kind.

I just don’t focus on the details. I am not a perfectionist. In fact, my girlfriends would tell you that I see the big picture and tend to rush through many of the details of life, including grocery shopping. My friend, Teri, lovingly calls me “Train Wreck Trish,” and that about says it all.

So it was no surprise when I came home from the grocery store with our 4th box of maple and brown sugar instant oatmeal. I simply stacked it on top of the others in the pantry and chuckled as the pimento gene showed up again.

I guess I have to take the good, the bad and the ugly. I am a package deal.

So as I watch the next Law and Order marathon, I will just enjoy a couple of bowls of maple and brown sugar oatmeal. 

I am not settling for mediocre, I am just getting older, and becoming more relaxed with who I am. My knees creak and my hair has turned gray, but I am more comfortable in my own skin.

Now if I could only figure out how to fit it into a smaller size.

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Posted by Trish Berg 7:17 AM  

1 Comment:

  1. Kathy F. said...
    A lot of this sounds very familiar except for the non-perfectionist. Add that to my negatives! As for the stocking up---I buy when it's on sale and rarely run out of anything but when I found I have too much in my pantry, it's time to do a couple bags for the local food bank. (And not share with the mouse I saw in my cupboard tonight!!) My girls thought there was a killer in the kitchen by their mother's blood curdling screams. I am petrified of the stupid things!

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