This is one of those posts where a picture could have told the whole story. Sorry to say I, even though I was the party of the first part, the party of the second part had already covered my tracks. The photo-op was gone, so I’ll use as few words as possible to paint the picture.
Occasionally I have a small bowl of sherbet late in the evening, as I did last night. This morning, as we were getting ready for our day, I came into the kitchen where Robin was preparing her lunch. She said, “For future reference you should know that the sherbet goes in the freezer, not the refrigerator.”
Over the past few weeks I’ve done a couple of other things like that (though not as messy), but I can’t remember what they were.
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I laughed when I read your post…reminded me of this piece I wrote some time ago:
“I Wish Someone Told Me…”
I wish someone told me the scissors had been moved!
I looked in the kitchen drawer; the usual place they reside; not there…I looked in the desk in the family room; not there!…I looked in the middle drawer of my desk in the office…you guessed it…not there!!…
I looked on the table outside on the patio…not there!!!…I checked my son’s room; that’s the likely place!…Guess again!?…Not there either!!!!
Now I was getting really pissed off, all I could think was, “a two second job, now taking me an eternity”…
Finally, I found the scissors!!!!!
In denial, and confessing to no one, I could see them from across the room; they were where I had left them the day before; on the desk, by the keyboard, at my computer workstation…
Then, it happened…
I wish someone told me. I wish someone told me they moved the damn step stool!!…I inadvertently tripped over it in my frustration to get to those scissors…
Now, reflecting how my mother had warned me, time and time again, about acting out with impatience…I laughed to myself; I never even got the satisfaction of the motherly ‘mark my words-like’ experience of running, falling, tripping and getting hurt with scissors in my hands…
Oh my, John… I’ve done this so many times, accusing my kids of not putting things where they belong (usually my scissors or stapler) only to find it was I who didn’t put them back.
Thanks for the comment,
Paul
So much for being in fully in the present.
Yeah, it’s very difficult to stay in the only place one can find reality.