Last night, I tried a new recipe for some soup. Which first required that I do the dishes, because the kitchen was too messy to cook in. Then I had to do some chopping--something I am not highly skilled at. I got everything mixed up, and got it cooking and it was delightful to smell the aroma of it cooking (which is impressive since lately my allergies have kicked in about dinnertime making smelling and breathing rather difficult).
So, once it was done, I dished it out so I could take it in my lunch. And in the process, I managed to knock one of the dishes off the counter and it hit the floor with an impressive splatter. Which, while being a tragic loss of soup, was also an incredible mess. It required a bit of mopping, as well as wiping down counters, oven, and refrigerator. And I'm STILL finding soup spattered in random placed, such as the wall near the ceiling. Seriously.
Now, I'm sure there's some kind of moral lesson, or analogy, or symbolism in this. I just don't know what it is. So, brownies for the best life lesson found in this little anecdote!
The soup, by the way, was delicious.
No comments:
Post a Comment