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Bulls and Frogs

Bulls and Frogs 

With two recently replaced hips and a body the size of a retired defensive lineman, my brother-in-law lurched into our family room. His ample hips made unintended contact with a prized glass console table. A loud chalk-on-blackboard noise signaled disaster as the thick slab of glass screeched off its fastenings and dropped with a thwack. Hundreds of tiny fragments littered the tile floor.  Each one refracted his embarrassment as he apologized profusely for his bull-in-a-china-shop move.

Although we regretted the loss of a perfectly good table, we were able to laugh at the Keystone Cops scenario. Such indelicate moves are familiar territory with our charming but klutzy relative. A couple of brooms and a sweep with the central vacuum cleaned the mess quickly. My hubby retrieved an old piece of slightly weathered plywood to serve as a temporary table surface until the glass could be repaired. Unattractive but functional.

Six months have passed and that plywood still sits there. Now part of the background, the ratty looking wood no longer catches our attention. Utility has supplanted ugliness as the temporary substitution became the new normal. Purchasing a replacement hasn’t made it to the list of things needing attention.

At breakfast my husband commented on how unattractive it is and we both laughed. Each of us  guestimated how long it will take us until we finally fix it.  Neither of us launched into action.

Another question rose in my mind: to how many things in my life have I become blind? Where am I taking the easy approach and avoiding the hard work of change? An image springs to mind: the proverbial frog in a soup pot who never notices the temperature until he’s cooked alive.  

Time to wake up. Set the alarm . Get conscious and get moving.

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Comments on: "Bulls and Frogs" (1)

  1. Ribbit ! Ouch ! LOL

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