Don't get me wrong, not all hugs are bad. I'm guessing that chances are I'll probably smother this new baby will hugs and kisses. However, regarding the general public, I really appreciate my personal space..... and then some.
And then there are times that I'm sure the general public does not want to hug me.
Example? Last Sunday, Wesley came in the house to see if I could help him for 20 minutes, max. (That should have been my first clue.)
Then he told me that I should put on some old, cruddy shoes (clue number two!).
As time really holds no significant value to my husband, we spent the next "20 minutes" processing and doctoring cattle, feeding cattle in two pastures and scouting a neighbor's corn field for rootworm damage. (Actual time? Nearly 2 hours.)
This left me roughly 13 minutes to get ready for church. I love mornings like that. Spit bath, mascara, chapstick and whatever I could find in the closet to wear.
As I sat in my pew at church I was very glad that our pastor never encouraged everyone to get up and exchange fellowship with one another that morning. Not just for my benefit, and the fact that I'm not 'a hugger', but also for all the poor little old ladies who probably would have hugged me, wrinkled their nose in simultaneous surprise and disappointment and then managed to squeak out an awkward smile as they quickly shuffled back to their original pews far away from me.
Moral of the story? If you ever come in close for a hug, don't say I didn't warn you.
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Just like mama said... If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.