I was told recently that I'm doing no help to the family considering I'm at home all day, so i've taken up the cooking responsibilities, and I'm really enjoying it actually! Only up to the point where it gets laid onto the table and no-one comes down to the dining room to eat it.
Yesterday I was starting to get ready for cooking, I was trying to pull out one of the big bowls from the back of the cupboard, the thing is, I ended up breaking the china.
OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The next thing I hear is a sound of crashing and around my feet are some of the best china plates we have.. broken! BROKEN! I wanted to DIE! The plates were broken! BROKEN!!! They had little gold patterned flowers on them.. and they were broken!!! BROKEN! THE GUILT!!! Then the next thing I thought was 'mum's gonna kill me'.
'It not your fault' said my grandma behind, me, surveying everything (her favourite hobby),
'Mama's gonna kill me!!!' I whispered under my breath, I was happy that my grandma was trying to make me feel better, but I started doubting her intentions after the next few things she said...
'Dey from turkey!' at this statement I felt like I was sinking in cold water... If they were from turkey that meant they were old china.... as in, from 50 years ago.... as in, unreplaceable, and just when I thought things couldn't get worse, my grandma kept repeating that the plates were from Turkey and gave a little history on it.
Miss. Short Fuse came into the Kitchen and saw the mess and gave me a bit of a telling off, because she evidently thought I was remorseless and needed a few more emotional lacerations ontop of everything else. But I decided then that I would tell mama and take it on like a woman.
So I scavenged the plates that did break and put them safely away from the Destructive Dessa. I cleaned up the mess and put the wreckage into a plastic bag, grimacing everytime I heard the sound of the pieces clanging against each other.. highlighting my sin.
I cooked the dinner, and just in time for Miss. Short Fuse before she went to work, and told mum about the plates, surprisingly she was actually calm about it. It looks like my grandma told her what happened, I can imagine her grinning while saying it (she likes to grin at strange situations). Mum gave me a hug and said it wasn't my fault.
I'm not voluntarily open to my mum, but it's strange the power mothers have, the moment she gives me her motherish hug, I open like dam, and spill everything. I hope I have that power one day.
Tomorrow I get my results, so prepare from some waterworks, I'm giving it no thought at all that my subconscience mind is scaring me a little and makes me think that in the back of my head and deep in my soul, hope had died.
Well... what can I do?
Yesterday I was starting to get ready for cooking, I was trying to pull out one of the big bowls from the back of the cupboard, the thing is, I ended up breaking the china.
OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The next thing I hear is a sound of crashing and around my feet are some of the best china plates we have.. broken! BROKEN! I wanted to DIE! The plates were broken! BROKEN!!! They had little gold patterned flowers on them.. and they were broken!!! BROKEN! THE GUILT!!! Then the next thing I thought was 'mum's gonna kill me'.
'It not your fault' said my grandma behind, me, surveying everything (her favourite hobby),
'Mama's gonna kill me!!!' I whispered under my breath, I was happy that my grandma was trying to make me feel better, but I started doubting her intentions after the next few things she said...
'Dey from turkey!' at this statement I felt like I was sinking in cold water... If they were from turkey that meant they were old china.... as in, from 50 years ago.... as in, unreplaceable, and just when I thought things couldn't get worse, my grandma kept repeating that the plates were from Turkey and gave a little history on it.
Miss. Short Fuse came into the Kitchen and saw the mess and gave me a bit of a telling off, because she evidently thought I was remorseless and needed a few more emotional lacerations ontop of everything else. But I decided then that I would tell mama and take it on like a woman.
So I scavenged the plates that did break and put them safely away from the Destructive Dessa. I cleaned up the mess and put the wreckage into a plastic bag, grimacing everytime I heard the sound of the pieces clanging against each other.. highlighting my sin.
I cooked the dinner, and just in time for Miss. Short Fuse before she went to work, and told mum about the plates, surprisingly she was actually calm about it. It looks like my grandma told her what happened, I can imagine her grinning while saying it (she likes to grin at strange situations). Mum gave me a hug and said it wasn't my fault.
I'm not voluntarily open to my mum, but it's strange the power mothers have, the moment she gives me her motherish hug, I open like dam, and spill everything. I hope I have that power one day.
Tomorrow I get my results, so prepare from some waterworks, I'm giving it no thought at all that my subconscience mind is scaring me a little and makes me think that in the back of my head and deep in my soul, hope had died.
Well... what can I do?
Thats a funny story! China plates are MEANT to be broken haha. kinda reminds me of that episode of friends where monica stresses out big-time cos they're using the nice china plates for thanks giving. but chandler knocks the whole box over and they all break! you shouldn't feel guilty, these things happen. one day very distant from now your own child might do the very same thing and instead of being angry it should hopefully bring a reminiscient smile on your face :)
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