Don't Cry Over Spilled Blueberries

To my son Tommy,

"Your son decided to wake up at two A.M. and I am going back to bed" said a frazzled looking mommy as I came down the steps.  To compound things I thought it was my day to sleep in so the last hour of me being upstairs was just lying there willing myself to sleep in.  I could tell no discussion was warranted and so it has been just you and me this morning.

When you and your dad do mornings, we try to always make your breakfast together.  You love pouring in your oatmeal flakes in the bowl.  As for the milk and the apple sauce, well that is a bit of give and take. I try to maintain enough control that we don't have a mess while giving you the illusion of doing it yourself.  The milk became a bit of a power struggle today and some spilled out on the counter.  I quickly said, "Don't cry over spilt milk" laughing that I finally got to say that actually due to milk and at the same time wondering if "spilt" is ok to use as an American or if it is only in the Queen's English that spill has that past tense form.  We  wiped up the little mess and finished your cereal without incident and plopped you down with a spoon to eat.

I decided to make some breakfast for myself, keeping with my healthy changes.  As I poured out my cheerios in a bowl, I decided to spice them up with some added nutrients.  I asked your mom to get me some frozen blueberries and a bag of walnuts when she went shopping this week.  A quick trip to the basement freezer and my cereal was now adorned with some health minded accessories.  I psyched myself up about eating healthy and convinced myself that I was really treating myself and I should have this option more often.  I decided to leave the blueberries in the upstairs freezer for convenience.  I resealed the resealable bag and threw them in.

If you ever heard a thousand marbles or dried beans or rice grains spilling out a bag, you would not be far off from the sound I heard immediately following my decision to keep the blueberries upstairs.  Evidently I didn't take the time to insure the seal on the resealable bag was in fact sealed properly.  What made it worse was the way I had put it in the freezer, I had to grab it almost in the middle and thus spill out more blueberries to make it stop.

I sat there discouraged and pissed as I looked at all the blueberries on the floor and spread through the various nooks and crannies of the freezer inventory.  I actually felt like crying.  Then I thought of what I would like you to do in this type of situation.  I thus started to clean up the frozen balls from the floor and get what I could out from the freezer.  I will wait for your mommy to wake up before I empty the freezer and make sure I got all the renegade berries from the freezer and then pull the whole unit out from the wall and clean underneath where there are bound to be another 20 rebel fruits hanging out plotting the resistance.

This little incident is full of teachable moments and ironies and such.  We could focus in on the karma or foreshadowing from laughing about the spilled milk.  We could expound for ages on how it is so much easier to make sure the job, in this case sealing the resealable bag, is done properly the first time.  I'd like to circle around on the lesson that what is done is done and the only thing to do after a mistake like this is to get down on your knees and clean it up.  I do not want to focus in on your bumbling father and his ineptitude but it makes me chuckle even now on the irony of spilling the blueberries.  Soon, after your mommy awakes and your dad summons enough testicular fortitude to mention his mistake, we could also teach how it is okay to ask for help and your mommy can be a savior when it comes to cleaning out freezers and finding and eliminating messes.  Next week, when we find a stray blueberry somewhere, we can focus in on how a simple mistake can sometimes have lasting effects.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo