1.24.2014
A 3 Spoon Day
Sherlock Holmes would often refer to "problems" by the number of pipes he would have to smoke before he figured it out. A three-pipe-problem therefore could be resolved or figured out by the end of the third bowl. {As a completely awesome aside, the new BBC Sherlock uses nicotine patches and therefore calls them three-patch-problems as to stay so very PC}. I digress.
I think that more often than not, it would be looked down upon should I refer to my days in such a way as to imply my smoking several bowlfuls of pipe tobacco in the pursuit of survival. I've contemplated wine, but that's just gonna get messy after the second glass...and I already deal with enough bodily fluids that aren't mine. You get the picture.
So, today (in my world) was a three-spoon-day.
This does not mean that I got out wooden spoons and beat my children nor that we took turns throwing 3 different spoons repeatedly at the door until the the man of the house walked through it.
It means that on THREE different occasions whilst children were otherwise engaged or occupied, I shoveled a heaping spoon of chocolatey, hazelnutty pure goodness into my mouth...just trying to make it through.
Undoubtedly, this is a food issue. But that's neither here nor there. Today was a three-spoon-day.
The first spoon: My sweet {and completely potty-trained} girl decided that it was perfectly okay to pee all over our bedroom rug while doing nothing of consequence and being only mere feet from the toilet.
The second spoon: When trying to roast coffee in 10 degree weather, my coffee roaster decided to mutiny with all the "green" beans in the hopper....and well, it was not pretty nor was my reaction to it. I can't really blame the poor coffee roaster. It was cold - even for an inanimate appliance.
The third spoon: As I was prepping dinner I realized (a little too late) that 10 degree weather is not conducive to things actually thawing. So my baked ziti freezer-meal had a type of thaw/cook experience that closely parallels the feeling of doomed failure covered in mozarella.
So. I measure my days in spoons sometimes...most times. lots of times.
Like I said, undoubtedly, and eating issue and thank God for nutella.
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You have a way with words! Keep writing.
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