My Apologies

To the redheaded boy at my junior high, I apologize for saying, “Hi Pumpkinhead.” I said it not because of your hair but because I’d seen you at the pumpkin patch over the weekend and I had a crush on you. You looked so hurt when you said, “That’s not nice,” that I was too mortified to explain. I also apologize for not explaining.

To my sister Chris, I apologize for dumping the sand from my cleats into your sheets while you were out with friends. I guess I was mad about something and I definitely did not expect you to come home crying. I also apologize for not confessing when you said, “And now there’s SAND in my bed.” I also apologize for confessing to this in a public blog.

To my band student’s mom, who helped me put away a hundred folding chairs, hurt her hand doing it, and said, “Well, no good deed goes unpunished,” I apologize for saying, “Oh did you do a good deed today?”

To the three kids I remember seeing teased in elementary and junior high school, I apologize for not saying anything. I hope to God I wasn’t laughing, too.
To the older college boy who stopped a group conversation to point out that I was laughing about an inside joke I couldn’t possibly understand, I’m sorry; I was just trying to fit in.
To the man I winked at while everyone else’s eyes were closed for prayer at church, I apologize. I was trying to silently tell you it was your turn to pray. When you didn’t start praying, my wink seemed suddenly scandalous. I also apologize to your wife.
To my husband, I apologize for saying I could definitely make a lot of money dogwalking.

In a related note, I apologize, Mom and Dad, for borrowing money from you when I’m in my thirties. But I will definitely make a lot of money as a writer, and then I’ll pay you back.