Why did they send you?

So the other day, while I was up and about my dad called me. He asked me if I could go to Lowe’s and buy him a screw. Since I was already in that area and he’s my dad, I told him I’d go. He sent me the specifications of the screw and off I went.

When I got there, I found two massive walls full of tiny drawers and even smaller screws. 

And while I knew I was looking for a M-16×30, I didn’t know if there was a special one for wood or a special one for metal. So I decided instead of just guessing, I’d ask one of the people who work there. They should be helpful, right? So I asked this man, he gives me the screws, and I’m off on my little merry way.

 Until I call my dad to make sure I got the right one… I got the right one, but he also wanted me to get a star washer. This time I’m even more lost because I have no nice picture or information to go off of, I just know he wants a star washer. There I am, a tad frustrated with a side of overwhelmed. I decide to ask this man again for help. His response was: “why did they send you?” I was completely caught off guard, I didn’t know how to even reply. I just kinda shook my head and waited for him to get me what I need so I could go. But now I know what I want to say:

Why did they send me?

 I’ll tell you. Because my dad was busy and my mom was tired. Because I’m willing and able to help my parent’s out when they need some help. Because I’m willing to face everyday small challenges. Because I’m always trying learn things. Because the only way to be independent is being able to go and do things you might always know how. Because it’s not always a man’s job to go to the hardware store and fix stuff. Because I’m smart, and if I don’t know how to something I’ll be resourceful and find a way to get the job done. Because I’m the one they sent. 


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