‘Everybody spills’ & Me
Posted May 31, 2010on:
We left the restaurant, but not because my parents were angry. They didn’t like to see their little Susie upset. Sadly, Susie hasn’t been back to New Orleans since. It’s not that I was scarred by the experience, however. But who knows if that French menu might be hiding the demon spinach in my food.
Most of my memories of crying in restaurants were after knocking over my milk. I also remember my kids welling up with tears after spilling theirs.
None of us should have. In our family growing up or in raising our kids, spilling was not a hanging offense. It was not an offense at all.
That seemed to calm them down. We said it so often that I started calling it our family motto.
It’s true that anyone who sits and eats or drinks with us spills. I don’t know if we have naturally-spilling family and friends, but just about everyone we know has knocked a glass over or dropped food on their clothing when by us.
One of our kids even said after throwing up, “It spilled out of my mouth.”
Now that is a spill.
I even tried to create a coat of arms to go with our family motto some years back that had minimal success.The slogan was, “Espillibusunum.” The coat of arms has disappeared unfortunately.
The kids are now grown and spilling on their own, but it all came back to me after a friend gave me this wonderful fake coffee cup spill. It looks so real that every time we walk by, there is a split second or two when we really think it’s a mess needing to be cleaned. I don’t drink coffee so I’m sure it’s Dick’s mess.
I loved that spilled coffee cup so much that I searched on the web for others like it, thinking I’d get it for the other spillers in my life. I discovered that just about anything that could be knocked over can be found in fake spillage.
There was even a Diet Dr Pepper spillage, which of course, was the one I bought. I wasn’t absolutely sure that the kids and/or their significant others wanted the faux messes in their homes.
I have a love for the ticky-tacky that does not end. I don’t actually drink Dr Pepper any more, having stopped during chemotherapy when my taste buds changed.
But walking by and seeing the spilled Dr Pepper brings back great memories of a time when I drank more of the stuff than God intended (but not the Dr Pepper Company). Spilling Dr Pepper in those days was like knocking over the nectar of the Gods.
Today, I am a new woman or at least new spills. I don’t cry over spilt milk, coffee or Dr Pepper.