It's My First Day

Over the course of my lifetime, I have held many different jobs and titles. When I was a young teenager I started off as a babysitter for neighboring families, while in college I spent some time as a bank-teller, I was later a front-office receptionist who made my way up to office manager, and then much later I was a teacher and instructional coach. But of all the jobs I have ever held, there was none I was so terrible at as I was at being a waitress.

I mean, I was bad. I’m sure you have experienced the bad type of service I would deliver. I was the waitress who (and these are literal examples) would take down your order, word for word, and then not bring out the salad or the appetizers. I was the waitress who would ask if you needed anything else, would listen to your reply, and then never bring back whatever it was you asked for. I was the waitress who would forget to bring your check so you finally just closed out your ticket with the hostess. I mean, I was bad.

There was not a time of me waitressing that was as bad as the “Fried Chicken Sunday” day. 

The restaurant where I worked was a local Cracker Barrel kind of place. On Sundays, and only Sundays, we offered fried chicken on the menu. I don’t know much about fried chicken, but I do know we were packed on Sundays and everyone was ordering the fried chicken. Everyone.

This restaurant was also a popular place for families to gather, especially on Sundays. Just picture it, there I was, 16 years old, serving up fried chicken on Sundays to large family groups gathered around large tables in a packed restaurant. 

On this particular fried chicken Sunday, I had a large table and there was the whole family; grandma, grandpa, parents, kids, grandkids, everyone was there. And of course, they all ordered fried chicken. And of course, being the terrible waitress I was, I didn’t put their order in right away. When they asked me how much longer it would be, I rushed to put in the order and asked the cooks to help me out since I had forgotten to do it sooner. They must have felt bad for me, and they rushed the order. In the midst of the rush, they overcooked the chicken…I mean, it was burnt. But I was nervous, and I had already messed up, and I served the chicken anyway. It wasn’t long before the family was sending it back and ordering something else. 

Okay, this all sounds pretty terrible, and it was, but it got much worse. I went back to their table another time, after the new order had been put in, and I was apologizing, again. As I was apologizing, I was also refilling their iced tea. As I was refilling their iced tea, and giving my most heartfelt apology for their trouble, I was also missing the iced tea glass entirely and was literally pouring the tea in grandpa’s lap!

I mean, I was bad.

The only thing I could do at that point was to revert back to the best advice I had been given during my training as a waitress. The woman who trained me was a veteran waitress…and she was good. We’re talking you can tell her your entire order and she won’t even write it down, good. She could carry plates up her arm like nobody’s business. It’s no wonder she was the one to train the new waitstaff. She was good and thankfully she kept it real. The entire time I was in training with her she would say, “Now don’t worry. If you mess up, just tell them it’s your first day…that’s what I do.” She told me she had “first days” all the time!

I did not pursue waitressing for very much longer (you’re welcomed). But I have kept that waitressing lesson with me, “If you mess up, just tell them it’s your first day.” 

I feel like for the most part, we give more grace and we offer more understanding when we learn someone is new at something. We tend to be more patient when we find out they have little to no experience in a particular area. We even tend to be more lenient on ourselves when we are trying something out for the first time. We give ourselves time and space to get over that learning curve. 

Well, I don’t know about you, but even after nearly forty years of life, after nearly 20 years of marriage, after nearly 18 years of parenting, I still sometimes feel like it’s my first day!

In all honesty, our experiences and years do build up over time, but there’s still your “first day” at any given moment. 

Your “first day” when you had a sick kid, or when you were sick and you had a sick kid, or when you had a sick kid and a sick baby, or when you had a sick baby and still had to go to work, or when you were sick and had to go to work and the baby was ready to play when you got home. 

Your “first day” when your “threenager” rolled their eyes at you, when your teenager rolled their eyes at you, when your teenager rolled their eyes at the “threenager,” when you made the teenager roll their eyes for five minutes straight just to teach them a lesson.

Your “first day” having a disagreement with your new husband, when you have another disagreement with your husband, when you have another, when you learn to compromise, when you learn to bite your tongue, when you learn you are right, when you learn you are wrong, when you learn to say I am sorry, when you learn to say it and mean it.

Your “first day” forgetting it’s your child’s picture day, forgetting your wallet at home, forgetting to click send on that email, forgetting it was your turn to send snacks.

First days are hard.

The truth is, every day is a “first day” in one way or another. We can approach our days with a little more patience and a little more experience and a little more wisdom than the day before, but that in no way means we have it all together. The truth is, I think it is wise to recognize when we are having a “first day” and give ourselves some grace and understanding. When you miss that parent meeting, when you are late picking up the kids, when you burn dinner, when you spout off to the kids, when you are mean to your husband, when you cry in your closet, remember first days are hard. 

Like that poor little 16-year-old girl spilling iced tea directly into the lap of the grandpa waiting on his fried chicken dinner, you can recover. The first thing you have to do is stop pouring. The second thing you have to do is look right into the mirror, smile, and say, “My apologies, it’s my first day!”

Oh, one other note, the family that Sunday left me the biggest tip I had ever gotten! If that family can show me some grace and understanding, you can show you some, too!