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From the Inside Out
DANCING
ON POTATO CHIPS
Not
too long ago I had "one of those days". I was feeling
pressure from a writing deadline. I had company arriving in a couple
days and the toilet was clogged.
I
went to the bank, and the trainee teller processing my deposit had
to start over three times. I swung by the supermarket to pick up
a few things and the lines were serpentine.
By
the time I got home, I was frazzled and sweaty and in a hurry to
get something on the table for dinner. Deciding on Campbell's Cream
of Mushroom Soup, I grabbed a can opener, cranked open the can,
then remembered I had forgotten to buy milk at the store.
Nix
the soup idea. Setting the can aside, I went to plan B, which was
leftover baked beans. I grabbed a Tupperware from the fridge, popped
the seal, took a look and groaned.
My
husband isn't a picky eater, but even HE won't eat baked beans that
look like caterpillars. Really frustrated, now, I decided on a menu
that promised to be as foolproof as it is nutrition-free: hot dogs
and potato chips. Retrieving a brand new bag of chips from the cupboard,
I grabbed the cellophane and gave a hearty pull. The bag didn't
open. I tried again.
Nothing
happened. I took a breath, doubled my muscle, and gave the bag a
hearty wrestle. With a loud pop, the cellophane suddenly gave way,
ripping wide from top to bottom. Chips flew sky high. I was left
holding the bag, and it was empty.
It
was the final straw. I let out a blood curdling scream.
"I
CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!"
My
husband heard my unorthodox cry for help. Within seconds he was
standing at the doorway to the kitchen, where he surveyed the damage
— an opened can of soup, melting groceries, moldy baked beans,
and one quivering wife standing ankle deep in potato chips.
My
husband then did the most helpful thing he could think of at the
moment. He took a flying leap, landing flat-footed in the pile of
chips. And then he began to stomp and dance and twirl, grinding
those chips into my linoleum in the process! I stared. I fumed.
Pretty
soon I was working to stifle a smile. Eventually I had to laugh.
And finally I decided to join him. I, too, took a leap onto the
chips. And then I danced.
Now
I'll be the first to admit that my husband's response wasn't the
one I was looking for. But the truth is, it was exactly what I needed.
I didn't need a cleanup crew as much as I needed an attitude adjustment,
and the laughter from that rather funky moment provided just that.
So
now I have a question for you, and it's simply this: Has the Universe
ever stomped on your chips? I know that, in my life, there have
been plenty of times when I've gotten myself into frustrating situations
and I've cried out for help, all the while hoping an angel would
show up with a celestial broom and clean up the mess I've made of
things.
What
often happens, instead, is that my hopes are often answered in a
completely different manner than I had expected, but in a manner
that is actually best for me. Sometimes I can see right away that
it was the best one after all. Sometimes I have to wait weeks or
months before I begin to understand how and why. There are even
some situations that, years later, I'm still trying to understand.
Do
I trust in the Goodness of Life? Am I going to stand on the sidelines
and sulk, or am I willing to learn the steps of a new dance when
it pops up? I'll be honest with you: Sometimes I sulk. Sometimes
I dance. I'm working on doing more of the latter than the former
... even when the chips are down.
~
Author Unknown