I would like to think I have made some progress with my inner control freak. At least now when certain absurd thoughts enter my brain they never make it out of my mouth. But, then of course, I am blogging about it now… so how much progress have I really made. IT MUST COME OUT!
This week I am preparing to leave my husband and my son for a week and head back to the Dominican Republic for a mission trip with a group from my church. I want to leave my family with all the provisions they might need for the days I am going to be gone. I am stocking up on frozen pancakes (my son loves to eat them for breakfast before school), yogurt for my son’s lunchbox and spaghetti for dinner. I plan on making lasagna and maybe chili before I leave too, just to make things easier on my husband when he gets home from work everyday next week.
I have reminded my husband that he must sign our son’s homework every night after it is completed. To be helpful, I have mentioned that there is nothing wrong with our son wearing his jeans to school two days in a row before putting them in the laundry. Last night my husband mentioned that he might need a review on what actually goes in our son’s lunchbox everyday. It’s been awhile since he has packed it. When hearing this request, the control freak in me (C.F.) began doing happy little back flips. C.F. loves giving people remedial courses on how to do things!
As I was preparing my son’s pancakes this morning, C.F. started cutting them the same way she always cuts them. First into thirds, then the two outer thirds get cut in half, then the middle third gets cut three times. C.F. likes the seven bite-size somewhat even parts that this cutting process creates. C.F. happened to think as she was cutting her son’s pancakes this morning… I should show my husband how I do this. But then the saner side of me happened to overhear this thought and shout…are you insane! You want to tell a 47 year old man how to cut pancakes! A man who was a bachelor for 39 years of his life and managed to stay alive and stay healthy without C.F. around!
So, I gently talked C.F. off the ledge of complete insanity and gave my son his nicely cut pancakes. Next week, when I am not here, they might not be cut exactly like this…and that’s really okay.