A True Story

Today is "Dead Day" at the university (I wish they'd come up with a new name for the day between classes and final exams) so my schedule is a little different than normal - I don't go in until 2:30. Given that I had the time this morning, I cooked breakfast for Marissa and me. Fried up some bacon, scrambled some eggs (with cheese, of course), toasted bread, and then set everything out on the table.

On entering the nursing nest to ask Marissa what she'd like to drink, she asked if we could eat there since Aidan was finally sleeping (he'd been up and active for about 2 1/2 hours and Mom hadn't gotten much sleep). "No problem!" I cheerily announced.

I set up a newly acquired TV tray next to the bed and proceeded to gather items from the kitchen - one or two at a time since I only have two hands. Makes perfect sense, right? Well, breakfast was good, even if I say so myself. It was afterwards that trouble started.

Instead of taking things back to the kitchen one or two at a time, I decided to do everything at once. I stacked plates, silverware, bottles, jars, and trash on the tray and donned my trusty oven mitts (easier to carry that way). Marissa pointedly asked, "Are you sure you can handle all that?" "Yeah. I got it." Well, God does tell us in the book of Proverbs that pride goes before a fall - but not just yet.

My first obstacle was the bedroom door: it was open but not enough for me to pass through. "Do you need help?" Marissa again. "No, I can manage." A feat of pure agility followed as I balanced on one foot while holding the loaded tray in my two hands and used the other foot to nudge the door open. Success! I thought for sure the door was going to be my ruin, but I made it!

I picked up my pace again and decided I could just go all the way without a problem. After all, the door hadn't been so bad. But little did I know at the time what lay in my path: an enemy like unto no other. One that lurks in the shadows, looking completely innocent and docile. It was waiting on me, I know it.

My legs cleared the laundry basket without a problem, but the tray's legs (which I had neglected to fold up) were not so fortunate. I didn't even realize I'd been caught until the tray began tilting forward despite my best efforts to keep it level. A butter knife clanged into the dryer. A jar of nutless pea butter rolled off the tray and thumped onto the floor. Not wanting to have an alarmed mother and a crying baby in the other room, I called out: "I'm Oooookay!" But I wasn't. I hadn't yet fully recovered from the basket's vicious attack. The tray was no longer level and I was off balance after trying to catch falling objects.

My momentum carried me forward and I took one large step to keep myself from falling. My tray, however, wasn't so lucky. Jars of jelly toppled and another loud "CRASH" followed. Amazingly, nothing else fell off the tray; they just fell over on the tray. But I wanted to ease the surely fluttering heart of my wife: "I'm still oooookay!"

I made it to the kitchen without further incident and quickly put everything away. This was in part to keep anything else from falling over and making a loud noise and partly to keep me from being further embarrassed. Success! And no injuries! Now that's what I call an adventure!

Happy May Day!! Or perhaps I should cry, "Mayday! Mayday!" I'll go get the milk out of the cabinet now.