And All This Over a Stuffed Bear

It isn't easy writing a blog. Some days words and ideas flow out of me like lava out of a volcano. They are hot and world shaping. Other times ideas are more like pearls, brought about by sand and a whole lot of irritation. Most of the time I mull over something a good long time until I feel like I have to write it down or I would have disappointed a part of myself. At times it seems like my writing is border line preachy. It is like I am on some sort of crusade so poke you into accepting what I believe a good person should be.


I am not always a good person, but I try to be. I was going to compose a lengthy post about assumptions, with an antidote from one of my more recent adventures. In the middle of writing this post, I changed my mind. 

Over the weekend I was at an out of town wedding with my husband. We had to sleep in separate beds because they did not have a queen or larger available. I brought a stuffed animal with me because I am a compulsive cuddler. I need to have something tucked under my arm or I don't sleep.  The next morning, the housekeeping staff did their thing (towels, sheets, emptied the garbage) in our room while we took time to check out the local book store.


Returning to the room I quickly surmised that my stuffed animal was missing. The house keeping staff didn't put it in a drawer or tuck it in the covers of the bed. My stuffed animal was missing. My husband figuring that we can inquire with the housekeeping staff that were still working on the rooms on that floor about the purloined bear. The query was for not, because their comrade that had cleaned my room was unavailable at that time and was recommended to speak to the front desk about my loss.

The trip to the front desk had me tumbling with emotions. What if I never got my stuffs bear back again? It was it wasn't like I could get another one. That bear was from my favorite bookstore, the one where I met my husband. It was like a member of the family with the amount of time and adventures I had been on with that white stuffed polar bear.


When I finally made it to the front desk, I channeled my inner customer service rep. I figured that if I ever wanted my stuffed animal again, I couldn't go at the unsuspecting clerk with guns a blazing. It wasn't their fault that this inconvenience happened.

Me: Hi. There was a white stuffed animal in my room. I think it got tangled in the bed sheet when the sheets where changed. Is there a way that we can check?
Front desk: Sure, I can call Claudia in the laundry room to be on the look out for it. What type of animal was it?
Me: Bear
Front desk: (calling laundry room) Hi! One of our guests little girl lost her stuffed bear in the laundry. Would you be able to keep an eye out for it. (Looks at me and covers the mouth piece of the phone) What is your room number?
Me: 230
Front desk: (to person on phone)If you find the bear return it to room 230. (Pauses) Thank you. (Hangs up phone). Give them at least and hour to look for the bear and they will bring it to your room.
Me: Thank you.

Ten minutes later there was a knock on the hotel room door and my stuffed animal was returned.

I wanted to write a post about people and their assumptions. Why did the front desk have to assume that I was a mother? And if I was a mother, what gave away the sex of my supposed child. A stuffed bear is a pretty unisex stuffed animal I would think. I wanted to beat my hands upon my chest and scream into the air, "Why cant a grown woman have a stuffed animal?" I wanted to be indignant that some one can look at me and assume that I should be a parent and scathingly blast the person that had helped me, but that wouldn't be right. 


The lady at the front desk did help me. She jumped to a conclusion that lead to the end result that I wanted. Can I be irritated a slight bit that she referenced me as a mom. Yes. I don't have children, and if I were trying and couldn't carry it could have been a real slap in the face. The truth is I am not trying, and I know that I have a way of blowing things out of proportion when I feel like my pride has been impinged upon. It took me awhile to see that the lady at the front desk said the right thing to get the result that I wanted and that I shouldn't be upset by the harmless assumption that was made. If the lady at the front desk had said anything other then what she did I may not have gotten my bear back. Telling a quick sob story about a daughter that lost her beloved stuffed companion in the laundry is certainly more motivating then lady of a certain age crying over is missing teddy bear and accusing hotel staff of theft.

So instead of this being a blog post about assumptions. It is a blog post about learning how to deal with hits on your windshield of pride. I have been called a lot worse things then mom. I am sure there are a lot worse things in my future. However it is up to me on how I deal with them and are they worth the anguish if the end result is the result I wanted.