Love Letters to Inconveniences
The Burnt toast theory has been going around lately. I have always been a fan of the burnt toast theory before I knew what it was called. This is a theory that whatever inconvenience you experienced, saved you from something. So, if your toast gets burnt in the morning, and you have to make another, that delay probably saved you from some sort of accident on your travels. Inconveniences are typically seen as annoyances. I am not denying that, however, maybe they’re just misunderstood. Maybe we take the wrong tone with them. After all, they could be saving our life.
Here are my love letters to inconveniences. Rather than throwing a toddler tantrum when I spill milk.
They tell me not to cry over you, yet my tears prickle in my eyes and spill onto my feet. Even so at my big age. You pool on the floor, creating your own shape on my own floor. The plastic gallon that used to cradle you sits on the floor, lifeless. You continue to explore the crevices and cracks of the wood panels, thinning yourself for further exploration. I give it a few beats before I begin to gather you.
I cry because you sacrificed yourself for me. You threw yourself from your collected state and became a child like chaos. I would be selfish to cry at the inconvenience your selflessness caused me. Rather, I cry for your bravery, your loyalty to me. The milk that fed my bones just gave me another form of life.
With gratitude,
Abigail
Your game of peek-a-boo saved me my life's savings- In theory.
Your game of peek-a-boo saved me my life-in theory.
Your game of peek-a-boo saved someone else's life-in theory.
Your will to camouflage yourself caused me to press your buttons a little harsher, just as mine were being pressed. I swear I looked where you were sitting 3 times. Why didn’t you say anything?
And then it hit me- you were screaming through a wall of protection. You couldn’t. You had to remain just as patient as me. We played a dance of fate together. We are bound. I don’t want to wreck you, and you don’t want to wreck me. We have a mutual understanding. Yet you reside in my home and I pay you no mind. I use you like a tool and nothing else. But you protect me.
From the outside world.
From the inconvenience of time.
From the incidents of fate.
With appreciation,
Abigail
Dear every missed turn, every moment that slipped away, every over slept alarm: thank you for protecting me. Thank you for challenging me.
Thank you for the human moments of fright, annoyance, stress, and exhaustion. Those moments build me and help me become patient, loving, understanding, and quick on my feet.
wow, just wow