My Goober boy turned four on the 3rd of this month, and like every good mum I thought it was the 4th until the facts disclosed my fallacious thinking.
Ahhh yes, me and static detail….never been the best of friends, I’m afraid.
Sort of like me and lids. Oh, I haven’t told you about that yet, have I?
What exactly it is about them I can’t quite say, but I truly seem to have a problem with them. It’s hardly purposeful, and terribly ridiculous really, but I just can’t keep the cap on anything I put my hands on.
Putting me near something with a lid is like trying to push two positively charged magnets towards one another. Eventually one of them has to go.
And in this case, it’s usually the lid, although one can never be too certain.
Strangely enough, I tend to be a fairly clean, tidy person until it comes to lids, caps, or tops of any kind that do not present an immediate purpose for their existence. Then all the regular rules go out the window.
This peculiarity of mine is quite unlike me in most other regards, and I’m afraid I’ve never understood it. Nor have my poor family or friends.
It would not at all be uncommon for the following conversation to take place near or within my kitchen as a child.
Sister: “Oh noooooo. Jen, where is the lid to the milk?”
Jen: “Oh….um….not sure..maybe on the floor somewhere”
(Jen begins crawling around the floor somewhere wishing milk didn’t have lids)
Sister: “Geesh, alright I’ll just make some toast. Hey wait a second, I can’t find the top to this butter either, JEN.”
Jen now presents sister with a few pieces of foil, smiling as confidently as she can muster
Jen: “This works just as well, really, and look how shiny.”
The strange thing is, I never remembered taking the lid, it just sort of happened. All the time.
It still does.
I even tend to drink coffee or drinks to-go without the top. I just flip the thing off and go on my merry way.
Don’t ask, I don’t know.
You’d think I’d have a collection by now, if only I knew where I put them.
These days its become a sort of entertainment amongst my friends, mostly because despite how hard I try to keep those bloody lids where they belong, I usually cannot go a week before abducting one or two. Or twelve. My response to their inquiries about lid disappearances vary, but typically I try my best to explain it.
“oh, just let it be free, it just wants to breath”
“can’t you see the poor juice is suffocating in there?”
“It never wanted a lid to begin with”
They never buy this of course, but I’ve got to say something, now don’t I?
You must admit, the second jar looks much happier.