This past Sunday I had some pie. Well, actually, I had pie twice. We had family over for Easter dinner. My SIL, Linda, brought chocolate pie. (YUM!) But I also had a slice of humble pie. (Not nearly as tasty.)
I don't often have folks over to my house. When I do, before they arrive there is a flurry of activity that usually involves me being short-tempered and snarky. This past Sunday was no exception.
We raced home from church so I could start the lunch prep. Turkey (already cooked, just needed reheating) went into the oven. Stuffing went into a pan to join the turkey. I grabbed two cans from the pantry and handed them to my son. "Open these and dump them into this bowl."
He opened the first one and scooped out the jellied cranberries. My family refuses to eat cranberry sauce or cranberry salad, but they adore the jellied cranberries. When next I looked at my son, he was standing at the counter with the can opener in his hand and doing nothing.
"James, open that can."
"Do as I say. I don't have time to argue with you. They'll be here in a few minutes." In my mind I had my wrist up to my forehead...ever the martyr.
James shrugged and opened the can. "Do you want me to dump it in this bowl, or do you want a different one?"
"What are you talking about?" Me, stirring the gravy.
"These pears. Do you want them in with the cranberry?"
Pears. Duh. I'd grabbed the wrong can.
For one moment I stepped outside my "Martha-busyness" and saw the absurdity of the situation. I started to laugh. I had to hug my son, apologize for my snarkiness, and then go find the other can of cranberry jelly.
We had a bowl of pears on the Easter table on Sunday. They never even made it to my end of the table before they were gone.
Hopefully I've started two new holiday traditions at my house. Pears on the Easter table, and more importantly, a mom who is not snarky when guests are coming over.