Late one night while I was emptying my dishwasher, a couple of forks slipped out of my grasp and hit the floor with a loud clang. Normally, I would have been annoyed, since I was anxious to get this done and get to bed. However, I found myself laughing hysterically, struggling not to wet my pants. I thought back to a similar situation years ago in a different kitchen.
In 1988, I was attending the Wyoming Lions Summer School for the Visually Impaired on Casper Mountain. After supper one night, I volunteered, or was chosen, for dish duty. After accumulating a neat pile of dry plastic glasses, I was reaching for a wet one when my arm brushed the pile hard enough to set it off balance. Glasses flew everywhere, hitting the floor with a loud clatter.
The normal human reaction in this situation is to be mortified, but having always enjoyed the sound of disaster, it was all I could do to keep a straight face, especially since others were laughing. The staffer in charge of the kitchen knew I’d just completed a music therapy internship. Not known for a sense of humor, he said, “Is that what you trained for at Villa Maria?”
I should have said, “No, I trained as a music therapist, not a dishwasher.” At the time, I couldn’t say anything, speechless as I was with mirth.
Isn’t it frustrating when you think of something you could have said in a particular situation? Of course that’s better than regretting something you said but still…
So what’s the point of this post? Again, I’m speechless with mirth and have no idea. Maybe years from now, I’ll have a better answer to that question.
Author Abbie Johnson Taylor
How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver
That’s Life: New and Selected Poems
My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds
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4 thoughts on “Of Falling Silver and Glass”
It is always good to laugh, especially when it is not at someone else’s expense. I am afraid I, too often, become angry when I drop something in the kitchen. I like your way much better.
Thank you, Glenda. Being visually impaired, I get especially frustrated sometimei when I drop things because then I have to hunt for them. When you can see the object lying on the floor, you can just bend over and pick it up. When it’s not exactly in front of your face, the job gets tricky. I appreciate your insight.
Speechless with mirth is a good thing to be. Otherwise, you’re just crying over–spilt glasses. I do understand about missing the opportunity to say just the right thing.
Thank you, Kathy. I’m never one to cry over spilled glasses or anything else for that matter. I appreciate your comment.