As much as I try to plan, these moments happen. You know, the moments when Diva Girl completely flips out over something that seems small and inconsequential. I've learned to never hand her a container of crackers without first checking to see that the cracker on top is not broken. I've learned to make sure that I don't put the spoon in the yogurt before setting it on the table. But there are some things beyond my control, and then it is "buh bye sane Diva Girl!" She cries. Throws herself on the floor. It is the end of the world (as we know it)!
These flip outs drive me a little nuts. I want to say "Just eat the cookie and get over it! So what if it's in two parts instead of one?"
But then I try to put myself in her shoes. I heard a comedian once talk about how when a kid loses his ballon, adults tend to brush it off and just tell them they can get another. He told us to think of our wallets floating away, how we would feel if someone told us we could just get another...we would cry like a little kid! So, I thought maybe I could think of how it would feel to get a broken cracker instead of a whole one.
And that's when it hit me....Pickles!
See, I hate pickles. I mean, really, really, HATE pickles. And there have been times that I have been ravenous and ordered a plain burger at a drive thru, and bite into it...only to discover a pickle. I won't lie, I have cried over it. Ugh, a pickle! You can't just tell me to pull it out and keep eating it or anything, because it still tastes like a pickle.
The pickle completely ruins anything it touches. Trust me.
So I thought of how I feel in that moment, when there is a pickle in my burger. And now when Diva Girl freaks out, I just think...she's having a pickle moment.
That I can understand.
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