WHO IS YOUR "LITTLE OLD MAN IN SHORTS"?

My friendly, hyperactive, little dog Max loves his evening walks with me and Pete. We put him on a retractable leash which gives him lots of room to run from one side of the street to the other. He generally pays little attention to neighbors working in their yards, children riding bikes, or passing cars. However, he has an aversion to an older man in jogging shorts who we frequently encounter on our route.

When Max eyes him from a block away, Max immediately freezes. Then he begins growling, barking, and lunges towards him. This isn’t just an occasional display of bad manners but it happens every time we see this poor fellow. We can’t explain it, we are embarrassed by it, and we apologize to him profusely as we physically hold Max down.

Last night as we were walking the dog, we had our usual encounter with the "little old man in shorts". Afterwards, I began to think about the things and people in my life who cause me to react in much the same way that Max reacts to the old man in jogging shorts.

Rude drivers cause me to growl. Driving home last night, someone followed me too close and it didn’t take long for my blood pressure to rise. Finally, the driver sped around me and went on to ride someone else’s bumper. Rude drivers are my "little old man in shorts".

Getting frisked by security at the entrance to the building where I work causes me to bristle. I come through the same door five days a week and on most days, I enter twice. The security officers see me everyday and know where I work. However, when I set off the alarm, I reveal my bracelets and belt, and still one of the troopers will insist I "undress", hold my arms out to my sides like a criminal, and then "wand" me. I do not fit the description of a stereotypical terrorist, yet I feel like one. Unfriendly security guards are my "little old man in shorts".

Last but not least, my serious pet peeve is dialing a business, i.e. an insurance or utility company or a financial institution, and never speaking to human being. Going through several layers of recorded messages and in the end being rerouted back to the beginning or, worse yet, getting disconnected can really get my blood boiling. It’s maddening to spend 30 minutes jumping through hoops, sitting on hold, listening to bad music, and then hearing the dreaded click and dead silence on the other end. The automated telephone system is my "little old man in shorts".

Unlike Max, who is controlled by a retractable leash, I am the master of my own leash. I am responsible for my reactions to the annoyances I face in life. Like Max, I growl, I bark, and sometimes I am ready to bite, however, I can control my emotions and take ownership of my responses. Isn’t it better to recognize the "little old man in shorts", more commonly known as "minor irritations", and smile rather than growl, keep quiet rather than bite, and calmly walk on by? Isn’t that what being a mature adult is all about?