There are many things in my life that don’t always go exactly like I plan for them…Maybe I should rephrase that to say that MOST of the things in my life don’t often go exactly as I plan for them. But that’s not necessarily a terrible thing—often times how I plan for something to happen (plan A) isn’t nearly as fun or as beneficial as plan B, a plan that never in my lifetime would I have chosen. Now sometimes these incidents present a lesson for me…but some times, there really isn’t lesson other than learning to laugh at my goofy self, and move on.
A recent example of an instance like this would be my black eye. Many of you know I received this doosey of a shiner, and I had to shamefully admit to many people that I had given myself the prize Black Eye. You see, it started when I was helping my friend, KristY* (*names have been changed to protect the innocent), by watching her 2 preschool kids as she delivered her third baby. Easy enough. My plan A: The children would wake up happy and I would feed them breakfast and whisk them away to Kroger where we would buy flowers for their mom in the hospital and then visit the parents in the hospital. Easy enough…Everything would go as planned, and we’d have a terrific experience. The kids woke up in delightful moods—this day was going to go EXACTLY as planned…for the first 2 minutes! I went to feed the darlings breakfast, and the oldest wanted some type of princess cereal over the toaster sticks I had already made… Oh well, slight hiccup in the plans—nothing a bribe can’t fix, right? Back on track for an amazing day! I got the kids ready to go, everything in place, and took the 2 year old boy, *T3rry to the “Potty” or “Hotty” as he affectionately refers. Everything was going great! Now, in their haste to leave for the hospital, the parents had forgotten to leave me a key to the home. No worries. I got everything ready to leave, locked and shut the door. Now here is where you are thinking…UH OH… No, really…this day was going just as I had planned. I stopped quickly by my own home, less than .3 of a mile away to let my dog out to pee and to grab a vase for flowers for the mom. So…“What do you say to a dog that is relieving himself?” Well NATURALLY, “Good BOY…He’s going potty.” It was at this time that my day begin to take a slight detour away from “THE PLAN.” You see in my efforts to praise my dog, the two year old (T3rry*) who was watching my dog do business mistakenly thought that I was praising him, and let loose on my wooden floor. Now this wouldn’t have been a problem except for the fact that if you remember correctly, I was locked out of their home with no way back in! I strip him down, and took his Pants and Thomas the Train skivvies to the bathroom where I proceeded to wash them out in the tub. The three year old (*Addya) who had never seen excitement such as this wanted in on the wringing action, but didn’t get the concept of the tub or the drain– My floor had water all over it. After drying my floor and the hand washed clothes, we were almost well on our way. Except, I needed the vase to hold the flowers that were to be given to their mother. I quickly jumped up onto a chair to grab the vase from the hard-to-reach cabinet. I pulled; obviously a bit too hard and the vase came down along with my hand that hit me square in the eye. Now THAT would leave a mark. I put some ice on the wound, but knew instantly that I was to have a shiner. Sigh. NOT PLAN A. I got the kids in the car, even though the little boy’s (*T3rry’s) pants were still slightly damp. Those weren’t the only activities of my plan B day either—After a misguided balloon to the ceiling of Kroger, a scolding from the Kroger’s lady, a knocked over African Violet and about 4,333 times of stopping to reattach T3rry’s sandals—(which thankfully, his mom has since gotten rid of), I learned something that day. What is the lesson I learned in this Plan B episode? I learned why parents use carts at Kroger and why saying “Good Boy!” shouldn’t be used to affirm a dog on his bathroom achievements. [side note: *names have been changed to protect the innocent because I am TRULY crazy about these kids]
Another lesson I learned about how sometimes plan B can sneak up on ya’ happened 2 weeks after my husband and I were married. My husband, at the time was a pastor of high school students, and we were taking the teens on a trip to Michigan to run a church’s Vacation Bible School program. It was a fun time being with the teens. We slept in a church, got ready at a YMCA every day, and would have the VBS in the church at night… it was an all around good time. One of the Youth sponsors on the trip, Anastasia, was a single gal in her thirties. The teen girls, being the romantics that they were (and probably having read one too many LOVE novels) started teasing this lady that she had met someone from the church we were visiting and had fallen in love. They teased and teased her and would not give it up. So, what are two youth sponsors to do when the teens keep at their antics? Give in, of course! We concocted this story about how even though they had known each other less than 3 days, their love for each other had grown…and he had proposed. It was an over-the-top story, but we thought we’d run with it. Problem was that we needed evidence for the teens to believe this story. They needed assurance that there was reliability in what we were saying. She needed a ring. I was newly married. I had a ring. I’d gladly donate to the cause. This joke was perfect. When we told the girls, with my ring on Anastasia’s finger, the girls went wild with excitement. They truly thought the couple was engaged. It was the best joke I had ever played. Oh, but enter Plan B. After the romantic teens learned that it was just a joke, Anastasia went to take her ring off her finger. The ring did not budge. We tried everything on that trip shy of cutting Anastasia’s finger off her body. We greased her finger with oil, we tried soap. We tried wrapping tightly with string. We tried elevating the finger. We had her sleep with it on. We tried soaking in the water. Nothing worked! The ring was stuck. Now, after a day of having my engagement ring on her finger, Anastasia became somewhat adamant that the ring be removed. A trip to the hospital and the nurses plan A of removing my ring was unsuccessful. You see their usual method of wrapping a string around the finger and pulling did not work because I have sizing balls inside my ring to keep it in place. What happened next? Definitely plan B… A little gadget and a little crank sawed my my ring apart so my ring could then be wedged off her finger. Yep, two weeks after I was married, my ring was not wearable because of a joke I had played. The lesson I had learned? Perhaps it would be beneficial to consider the value of the object before playing a joke with it.
Now, until this time, I have steered clear of my kitchen Plan B’s…and I have many!!!
Take for instance the Tuna Casserole I was making before I realized that I had no tuna in my kitchen. My brother, the previous month had been moving to China, and had given me all his spices and leftover cans of randomness. In the mix of leftovers, he had a can of Spam. How bad could that be? Tuna/Spam. It’s all meat, right? And mixed in a casserole, I’m sure the flavor will meld together. Right? As my Economics Teacher from high school used to say, “WRONGO SONGO”—It was the worst thing that I have ever made in my life. My husband, who will normally eat ANYTHING, after being asked if it was the worst thing I’d ever made, replied, “Pretty much.” Plan B—so what did I learn? Spam isn’t good for anything…
Over the years I’ve learned a vast amount from my mom and Plan B’s in the kitchen…like if a dish flops, you just rename it. If the dessert you are making looks bad don’t call it Chocolate Cake—, call it Avalanche Chocolate Cake. If the casserole you are making, which coincidentally looks like Pepto Bismol and looks too awful to eat, a creative name will do the dish wonders—that’s why I presented the Pepto Bismol pink noodle dish to my husband Tuesday night as a “creamy tomato” casserole. The name makes it sound so much more appealing.
Most of these stories, though true are just tales of me being me—never quite getting it right and always having something planned that doesn’t go as expected. Many things don’t happen the way I would have chosen. In fact, left up to me, I would still be living in Indianapolis. But my plan A, and plan B were quite different, and here I am today…thankful that I’m here. A motivational speaker, Denis Waitley has said, “Expect the best, plan for the worst, and prepare to be surprised.” I think if I had to use this quote to sum of my life, the opposite would be true… I’d have to say that as a rule, I “Expect the worst, plan for the best, and prepare to be surprised.” And usually, I am.
~from a Toastmaster speech that I wrote and gave this week at my club. I thought it would be fun to xanga it…if you made all the way through, you deserve an award– thanks.
