My mom is hosting a family dinner. I’m trying to help get it ready while Mister plays outside. Then inside. Then outside again. I can feel the finger-pinch coming on so I put down the tomato and knife and go to the back door. “Mister, please decide if you’re coming in or out then keep the door shut.”
“I’m coming in,” he says. He comes in and shuts the door behind him.
Forgetting about my half-cut tomato, I start patting the lettuce dry and putting it on a plate.
“I’m going out,” Mister says and pushes the door wide open again.
“Okay, then shut the–” I don’t have to finish. He’s already slammed it.
I finish the lettuce and am just about to get back to the tomato when my mom comes in. “Do you smell smoke?” she asks.
I do. I assumed it was smoke from the grill. I’m wrong. She opens the oven and pulls out the trays of slightly charred fries.
“I’m sorry!” I say.
“It’ll be okay,” she says. “The can just use a lot of ketchup.”
Have you ever had a disaster because there was just too much going on? What happened? How did you recover?