I sometimes make bad decisions. Don’t we all? Of course, I don’t realize they are bad decisions at the time. If I did, I wouldn’t make them.
How could I have known, for example, that it would take me 3 hours to fall asleep last night? If I had known that was going to happen, I would not have made the decision to stay up until midnight. That was a bad decision. If I had known it would take me that long, I would have gone to bed at 9:00.
Or could I have foreseen the breakdown Manchild would suffer when he realized we brought only one pink balloon home from Squish’s preschool? (I suppose there’s a strong argument that I could have, but see scenario #1 in which I am up until 3:00am through no fault of my own. I plead insanity.) If I had known about the meltdown, I would have made a good decision by leaving all balloons at preschool. For sure.
And, finally had I known that the bottle of spice I pulled out of the cupboard and sprinkled onto my weekly granola batch was onion powder instead of ground ginger, well, I wouldn’t have tried to get all fancy with the spices. Cinnamon does a very good job on its own, thank you. But now, because of my bad decision to not read the label, we will be tolerating a hint of onion in our normally cookie-like granola for the next week.
Please, if you’ve made any similar decisions lately, do tell. I could use some company.