My favorite hat of all time. Gives me courage under fire.
I bought my Life is Good hat - yep the one here in my self portrait - several years ago at an airport when I was having a particularly bad day. I thought I needed some inspiration and that simple message, Life is Good, gave me courage on a bleak day. It's a great reminder that happiness is a choice, even if you are slogging thru a hard time. You can choose to be happy despite your circumstances - or be overwhelmed by them. How you respond to life depends on you. It's better to remember that life is good.
Who could be grumpy with this mug?
This is why I like to promote the LIG products. I love their joyful, easy, simple messages and I see them as an encouragement to keep on keepin' on. Sometimes, if things are really grim, I'll double up and wear my inspirational tshirt AND hat at the same time. That is for the toughest days. It's kinda funny how I got that shirt. Come to think of it, I bought that Life is Good shirt at an airport also.
I was on my way home from a not particularily fun time visiting a new mommy. She was in "that" phase and insisted that I wash all my clothes in her "approved" laundry soap. Just to be in the same room with the new baby. I wasn't even approved to hold the baby. For heavens sakes. It is a fact that I am allergic to almost everything scented. Not only did I not want to smell like a fresh baby diaper... I did not want to break out in hives. But I was assured that this special baby laundry soap was totally hypoallergenic so I gave in and handed over my clothes.
Several days later - there I was in the airport on my way home - scratching. And I was mad. Real mad. I shouldn't have washed my clothes in that Acid and Barbed Wire bubbly stuff. It was not hypoallergenic and I smelled ridiculous. And I had a rash.
I figured I'd adjust my attitude and get a new shirt. I picked up the softest shirt the Life is Good store had and rushed to the cashier. "That will be $39, please" said the too-perky-for-my-bad-attitude cashier. My jaw dropped. Apparently there is a lot tax at the airport....but it was worth every scent... I mean "cent." I'd need all the encouragement I could get for my journey home.
I boarded the plane and found my seat. And then he showed up. Oh gosh. You know that fellow traveler. I call him Smilin' Guy. Typically an executive who is trying to overcompensate for having to be in the rear with the gear....with all us travelers in coach... instead of first class. He's the one with too much cologne, a too crisp shirt, and an expensive watch. He's gonna try and impress you with his flashy smile and small talk. I hate small talk. I hate it even worse on a plane. And if I have a bad case of the scratchies...well then golly.
Immediately I stuck my nose in my book - a tome about ancient war generals - and avoided eye contact. He was persistent tho and pounced as soon as I looked up to see if they had started the beverage service.
"So! How's your day?" He over-enthusiastically asked.
"Bad. It's real bad, friend." But I didn't really say "friend" like I meant it. He didn't hear me anyway and he kept on yammerin'. "On the way home or heading out?" He kept on.
"Home. I'm going home and I've had a terrible trip." At this point the flat tone in my voice was lost to him. He started to ask me something else but I cut him off. "Where's my waitress? I need a drink." I said looking around.
About that time the flight attendant was at our row. "I'll take a double, honey. And just leave the can of tonic, if you would." I said. Even that gal could tell I was starting to crack so she left me extra limes and gave me an understanding look.
"Boy, you weren't kidding...a..about the drink." Smilin' Guy said looking a little nervous.
He was still trying to break the ice when I threw back my second gin and tonic. Finally I leveled a look at him that has been known to stop a sassy rooster mid-step, silence a naughty child who wasn't even mine, and make a grown man give me a 10 foot radius. He went back to looking at his important papers and I went back to reading about how to divide and conquer an empire on horseback.
Mercifully the plane touched down in the Good Land and about that time my scratching stopped. My Life is Good shirt had fixed me. Not only was my skin rash gone, but by the time I ran out of the terminal and into our big work truck driven by The Big Man, it reminded me firmly that happiness is a choice.
They have great dog shirts. My Dog#1 had me at woof.
Life is good, friends. And its ok if you need a reminder now and then. I have a hat and a shirt that proclaims this simple message.
Happy Tuesday everyone!
Editor's note: Do you love Life is Good products? Would you like to support this blog? Head on over to my store on Amazon and get a great shirt, hat, or coffee mug. Any products you buy thru my links support this blog. Shopping anyway? Click on the Amazon badge to get to the regular Amazon site...or use the black Amazon search box on the right. Thanks!
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