Little Things (itty bitty thoughts)
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I sliced my thumb yesterday as I cut onions to make seasoned tomato sauce.
The cut was deep, starting at my thumbnail and ending in my thumbprint.
There was a lot of profanity and a decent amount blood for a stupid sliced thumb but in the grand scheme of life the cut was really a minor thing.
A little thing.
as little things are known to do
it made itself known all day as I continued to make sauce
(with a nitrile glove on my left hand to help keep the bandage dry)
and as I attempted to return a text
(you can’t use your thumbs to type on a phone screen when one is covered with a bandage)
and as I tried to turn pages in the book I was reading
and as I did dishes later
and as I took a shower this morning and washed my hair.
The cut wasn’t the end of the world by any means. But I certainly knew it was there.
And I got to thinking about little things and how they make themselves known.
Like the tiny hole in our dryer’s lint screen.
Like a mosquito in the room.
And I got to thinking about how we’re more apt to focus on those little annoying negative things than all the other little things.
Because the day is made of little things, both good and bad.
Last night I ran out of lemon juice, so I couldn’t jar up the last batch of seasoned tomato sauce—a recipe that had netted way more than the recipe had predicted it would.
“Do you want me to run to the store for you?” my husband asked.
I am not sure which of us hates running to town more. It might depend on the day. But he offered to do it, standing there at almost 9 pm.
I told him no because by the time he got back from town and then I ran another canner full, I’d be falling asleep at the stove. I was just going to call it a night and continue again after a trip to the store in the morning.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Those eleven words—do you want me to run to the store for you?—were probably a little thing, I suppose.
But I keep thinking about it this morning.
So maybe it wasn’t really a little thing.
Because sometimes little things aren’t really little things.
Are they ever?
Every time today that my stupid thumb hurts, I’m going to take it as a reminder to remember other little things—like my husband’s offer to run to the store.
Like the fact there was coffee waiting for me this morning at 5 am.
Like the fact someone remembered to pull out another loaf of homemade bread from the freezer after using one up last night.
Like the fact there are kisses that still make you tingle and cribbage games and popcorn and jars that go ping and three more bags of hog food and a kitten that likes you and kids who still ask your opinion from time to time.
Because eventually at some point in our life we realize that the little things really are the big things.
We just have to focus on the right little things.
— Amy Dingmann, 10-6-20