Watch Where You Step!

On the way to drop the kids off at school this morning I saw an image that has been with me all day. A lady on her morning jog past our neighborhood elementary school abruptly broke stride before crossing the street. Although I'm not a runner myself it seemed a little odd to me that she just stopped. It seemed even stranger when she crossed the street and made a beeline for the nearest leftover sprinkler puddle and began furiously scraping her feet. My eyes darted to the other side of the street where the telltale pile of puppy poop cleared up the mystery. When I looked back over she was still shuffling away in the nearly nonexistent source of water.

This image succinctly portrays how I feel about agreeing to do some of the jobs in my life. Once I consent to do a seemingly effortless task I manage to plant my foot firmly in the nearest turd and spend an unfathomable amount of time trying unsuccessfully to remove it from my shoe. Last night, Brendan needed to look up how to wear a toga. No, I'm not sending my nine year old to frat parties. It was Olympics Day at school. But the point is that a five minute Google search tuned into a three hour download of Internet security software that I had to babysit along with the three boys in my life, our weeks worth of laundry and the night before school scuffle complete with tears and bloodshed (strawberry, knife, 3rd grader - you get the picture).

At work, I got suckered into being Team Leader for one more year under the assumption that I've done it for two years and could use the lesson plans I already have. Come to find out the state has changed what we have to teach and our district has decided this is a good year to go in a different direction. What is that smell? I'm pretty sure it's more doodoo on my shoe and there is no puddle in sight.

This is not to say that I tromp around with metaphorical poo on my shoes all the time. Things do go right, more often than not, but there are some people in our lives who just love mucking up the sidewalk for their own entertainment. To them I would like to say, keep your steaming landmines to yourself, I manage to step in my fair share without any help.