Moment of Weakness

Yesterday, as I was making my way through the too close for comfort but not quite bumper to bumper traffic of my hour long commute home, I looked up the road a bit at the window of a cranberry red mini-van in front of me.

There, hanging out the window, was a hand flicking a cigarette butt, attached to the arm of its owner by a wrist boldly bedecked in a bright yellow "live strong" bracelet.

My stomach turned with the power of self-righteous indignation.

Later when I told my husband this story, he reminded me that maybe that person was just having a moment of weakness.

My husband has a beautiful way of gently reminding me of my own moments of weakness.