Walking On Broken Glass

I have been having a tough time sleeping lately.  I know that we’re still technically in hibernation mode here in the frozen north, but unlike the little varmints (gophers) still napping on our acreage, I have had a hard time catching the “Z’s” necessary to function at peak performance.  It’s equally frustrating when I can’t seem to find time for a good power nap through the day either.  So there are some days that don’t go as well as I had originally planned.

Take for instance, Saturday night…

I appreciate my teens unloading and loading the dishwasher.  In fact, I don’t usually complain about them not putting dishes away in the same cupboards the dishes originally came from because I’m just glad they’re doing the task at all.  Unfortunately sometimes that means I have to go hunting for some kitchen utensil or glassware that has somehow gone “missing”, but usually it’s just been put in another drawer or cupboard.  Such was the case on Saturday.  I looked into my glassware cupboard and discovered a plethora of mismatched glasses and my OCD cut in and I just had to make it right!

The problem is lack of sleep has caused me to not think things through as well as I should.  I am short-statured so I have to stand on this handy-dandy little foot stool that I keep in the kitchen whenever I need to reach high shelves.  I should have known that balancing on a stool, and reaching into high cupboards when my reaction time is less than optimal is likely not a good idea but still I pushed on.  Now, my husband, bless his heart, could hear my OCD ramblings from his station in front of the T.V. in the family room, but he did not register my grumblings enough to realize that I might just need his assistance.  I hinted…loudly…but he just wasn’t getting it.

Anyway, I climbed up on my little foot stool and balancing on tip toe I moved a glass.  My sleep-deprived body reacted far too late to prevent the catastrophic event that happened next.  Before I knew it, a long-stemmed glass tipped over somewhere in the far recesses at the back of the cupboard.  Of course I could not reach it in time and I was helpless to prevent the domino effect that rippled through all the other glasses as they began to tumble unconstrained from the cupboard.  I made a valiant effort to juggle a few in my outstretched arms, but with my balance being precarious, my reflexes iffy, all I was able to muster was a blood-curdling scream, and just duck the waterfall of glassware!

It only took a few seconds but I’m convinced a bull in a china shop wouldn’t have wrecked this much damage.  As I stood on my footstool in shock at the glass carnage around me I heard a small voice calmly call from the family room, “Honey, why didn’t you wait for me to help you out?”

I love the man, but seriously?

At that point I was just too tired, too miserable and too shell-shocked to respond in a way to my sweetie that would have been…let’s just say…less than edifying.  I merely grabbed my broom and swept up the carnage and later I couldn’t help but giggle when I came across this scripture:

“A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control”  Proverbs 29:11

The point of course is that my usual response, sleep-deprived or not is that I tend to make matters worse by playing the blame game for some of life’s little “catastrophes”.  I soooo wanted to lash out at my sweet husband rather than just admit I should have waited for him to “help me”.  However on Saturday night, quite uncharacteristically of me, I just let my bad temper slide and as a result all that was damaged that day was a bunch of glasses, but all hearts were left intact.

 

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This entry was posted in Family Life, Hope through Humour, Proverbs 16:9 - Journey Thoughts and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Walking On Broken Glass

  1. Marianne says:

    So, being sleep denied and shell shocked made you wise?

    • Lynn says:

      Hahahaha! I suppose had I not been sleep-deprived I would have worded that better, Marianne. The gist of course is that my usual response, sleep-deprived or not is to make matters worse by playing the blame game for some of life’s little “catastrophes” rather than just admit I was wrong. In this case, I just let my bad temper slide and as a result all that was damaged was glasses, not hearts. (Maybe I’ll have to add that to the post! Thanks Marianne!)

    • Lynn says:

      Marianne, I’ve changed the post slightly…thanks for your comment! Lynn

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