Heather, Beren, and I got some hot chocolate at Borders yesterday. It's really fantastic hot chocolate, by the way, with syrup, whipped cream, white chocolate shavings and even a handy solid chocolate stirring stick. That's actually the source of this little story.
Beren, bless him, accidentilly dropped his stir stick down into the cup. When I explained to him that this was not a recoverable situation, the poor little guy cried the cry of 1000 deaths. He was really bummed, I mean REALLY upset about the loss of his little chocolate stir stick. Heather and I had absolutely no idea how very important that stir stick was to him until this moment when he let loose the most pathetic, genuine sob of remorse I think I've ever heard out of him. Our reaction, of course, was to laugh because... what else are you gonna do? We were caught so off guard. Poor guy. We eventually got him calmed down, you know, laid on with the "It will be OK, it will probably melt and make a yummy spot at the bottom" type of arguments, but it really shook him up. Maybe some day he can read this blog, look back on this, and laugh a little.
I yearn for a time where life will become so simple again, where priorities are so black and white, and there is nothing more important to worry about than the state of my solid chocolate stir stick.
As I think back, it reminds me of one of those SNL Jack Handy quotes:
“If you ever drop your keys into a river of molten lava, let 'em go, because man, they're gone.”
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