Smoothie Pants

This is a story I tell my students in order to encourage them and make them feel better about all of the terrible things that happen to you when you're a teenager. And all the terrible things that still happen to you when you're an adult, despite your efforts to prevent them.

And it goes like this.

Generally on a school morning, I zombie myself to the bathroom to get ready while Tyler hits snooze several times. Then as I dress by the light of my phone flashlight, Tyler zombies out of bed and goes upstairs to make my breakfast and lunch. I know what you're thinking--that is so sweet of him. And the worst of me, because how lazy am I that I can't make my own meals? The answer is v lazy. It is v sweet of him, but it's also because if he didn't I would legitimately waste away slowly and be shriveled into nothing by graduation.

Generally, lunch is one of three: oatmeal, PB&J, granola bar.
Breakfast is also one of three: toast, cereal, smoothie.

On this particular morning, Tyler made me PB&J for lunch and a smoothie for breakfast. He was especially tired so I sent him back to bed with a kiss and a spank.

I sat at the table drinking my smoothie. I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to grab chapstick (it's a necessity and an addiction). I promptly stood up from the table and as I sidestepped out of the bench my pants caught the tablecloth and began to rip it from it's resting place on the table. I foresaw the disaster with my psychic-like abilities and froze in just enough time so that the smoothie glass didn't move.

"That was close, self," I told myself as I made a mental note not to do that again.

I came back from retrieving the chapstick and continued to enjoy my smoothie. As happens frequently in the morning time and throughout most of my day, I remembered something else I needed to take to work with me that day. I leapt from the bench and quickly sidestepped out of the table. I know what you're thinking, "NOOOOO, the TABLECLOTH! the SMOOOOOTHIE!"

I'm sorry to say that my mental notes often get written on a notepad in my brain titled 'Forgettable' and are promptly forgotten. So I think you know how the rest of this story is going to go.

It looked like a magic trick gone wrong. The one where the magician pulls the tablecloth out from under all the stuff with not so much as a wiggle from the items on said tablecloth and everyone at the table cheers and throws money and flowers at the magician. Yeah, it didn't exactly go like that.

Magic trick from David Ginn Magic-check out his YouTube channel!

And so where do you think the smoothie went? I'll put it in list form in order to speed this up a bit.
There were smoothie smatterings on all of the following in varying quantities:
  • table
  • tablecloth
  • bench
  • pants
  • shirt
  • inside of my shoes
  • floor
And in the process of trying to stop the catastrophe midair:
  • cabinets
  • countertop
  • various rugs
  • sink (which sounds like it would be a positive thing, but at this point it really wasn't)
I stood there, smoothie-clad and fuming and didn't know what to do first. So I laughed. I laughed at how stupid it was that I had mentally informed myself not to do something and then did that exact thing. I didn't have time to change so I wiped myself down and ran out the door. Smoothie pants and all. 

And you know what? The rest of the day was fine. Better than fine actually. I got to see hundreds of my students (a.k.a. best friends, their words, not mine) and they didn't care that I had smoothie pants. I got to teach, and be creative and come home to my wonderful husband who makes me meals. 

One day, despite all your efforts to make your life perfect, you will have smoothie pants. And you know what? It will be fine. It might not be fine in that moment or for a lot of moments after that, but eventually it will be okay. And no one will care that you made a mistake, or forgot something, or weren't perfect for a little while. It will be okay, and that's what really matters. And life is better lived believing that one day it will be okay.