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Saturday 25 September |
Saint of the Day: Bl. Herman “the Cripple”

I chose . . . poorly.

Simcha Fisher - published on 03/10/15

Les_remords_de_la_patrie

As he mopped up something unspeakable, my husband remarked that shredded wheat might not have been the breakfast for a kid with the stomach flu. I actually think it could have been a lot worse. Anything with red dye #40 in it, for instance. Anything with beef. Anything with corn. Or, what one of the other little pukers ate, and then quietly deposited in the middle of our bed: hard boiled eggs, unchewed. Quem deus vult perdere, dementat prius! Which, if I remember my Latin, roughly translates to, “I’m sorry, are you a python? So chew!”

But it did make me think (as I cast around for anything to think about, other than how likely it was for all twelve of us to spend the next week hurling our guts across the room, with or without the aid of corn) of all the other bad choices I’ve made in my life. For instance . . .

“I insist that you kids get heavily involved with T-ball.”

“Camping with nine children, no electricity, no running water, and morning sickness sounds like it might be rough, but I have faith in the miraculous, transformative power of family time.”

“Buying clothes two sizes too small will motivate me to lose weight fast.”

“Probably if I drive even faster as the sun goes down along this unfamiliar highway with three kids who are not potty-trained in the car, that grinding, chattering, hooting, whomping noise coming from the transmission will stop on its own.”

“It’s our last day together as a childless couple. I’m only in early labor, so let’s go out for the biggest, meatiest breakfast ever.”

“But they’re the Legion of Christ — the good guys! Surely they’ll pay me eventually, because they are honest.”

“Yes, filthy Italian man. As a naive and depressed college sophomore, I would love to go visit your terrifying friends who are squatting in some ruins just outside of Rome. Please tell me more about the band you’re in while we get on this unfamiliar bus together.”

Oh, and one more thing, to bring us full circle: “Uh oh, someone needs a bowl quick! Ah, here is a plastic one that I accidentally left on a hot stove.”

I know I’m blocking out some biggies, too, but that’s all I can come up with at the moment. So make me feel a little better, and tell me all about the times you chose poorly. Whatcha got, and how sorry were you?

***

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