I am pouring coffee into a thermos and grabbing lunch out of the refrigerator when I hear something shatter on the floor. I look down to see a huge pile of red stuff on my boot and running down my leg. I see it's a brand new bottle of picante sauce that has fallen out of the fridge and broken. A quick glance at the clock reminds me that I have kids waiting in the car and will be late if I attempt to clean up this mess. Fighting tears of frustration I grab a rag and wipe the salsa off of me the best I can thanking my lucky stars that I'm not wearing my Uggs today. I shout out "seriously!" and throw the rag back in the sink. Figuring the snow will clean off the rest off my boot I jump over the pile on the floor and am out the door.
I'm a big proponent of "don't sweat the small stuff," but moments like this sure test my resolve on that issue. I didn't let it ruin my day, but coming home to the mess I had to clean up was sure not fun. It's funny how things like that only happen at the worst possible time. My patience has been thru the ringer lately. I know God has a plan and a reason for everything, but I gotta say I'm kinda hoping I've had enough of the patience-building events for awhile. I could use a break!