We were putting groceries away, which shouldn’t have been as frustrating as it was.
You see, I’d filled the bottom rack of the dishwasher and all but one spot on the top rack. I was drinking from a glass and planned to put it in the dishwasher when I was done.
That was simple enough and seemed like an efficient plan to maximize available space. Why run a dishwasher that isn’t completely full? Water doesn’t grow on trees.
I left the dishwasher open, so I could slip the empty glass into place like a Tetris piece, achieve my dishwasher goals and bask in a sense of household accomplishment.
Then my wife arrived with the groceries, and we started putting them away.
Though it makes no sense, my son avoided helping with the dishes or the groceries. He has freaky skills when it comes to skipping out on such chores. Part of me admires the magic of it all.
Anyway, putting away the groceries was oddly difficult. My wife and I kept getting in each other’s way.
We had no actual collisions — we’re civilized people — but there were near misses that might’ve become body checks had the boy been pressed into service. His wily ways might’ve saved us.
The adults in the room, who probably should’ve known better, didn’t figure out the problem until the groceries were mostly put away and the pair of us were approaching the point of chewing through barbed wire and spitting out bullets.
The problem? Some lamebrain left the dishwasher open, so it closed off one of the kitchen lanes that we’d learned to rely on over the years.
I’d go a way that usually worked and find it blocked, and then she’d do the same. It was almost worth the trouble to see the cute way she blew her hair in frustration, but that’s a digression that could get me into trouble, so we’ll end it here.
I’m writing about housework and everyday things, but I’ve been thinking about the ideas beneath what happened.
There’s this theory in psychology about maximizers and settlers. A maximizer wants to get the most out of every situation while settlers will say, “This will do,” and go on with their lives.
Each approach has its drawbacks. A maximizer can drive himself or herself crazy trying to get the absolute best deal. If the car he wants is in town but has a scratch on the seat and the exact car without the scratch is three states over, the maximizer forgets about other pressing concerns and plans out that road trip.
The settler, on the other hand, will put up with a slew of imperfections to avoid the stress from packing the car, driving across state lines and haggling over the price.
What I’m trying to say is a little stress is going to fall into everybody’s life. No matter how you get through the day, proverbial coconut cream pies will occasionally hit you in the face.
Trying to make things better can make them worse, but, of course, we should keep trying to make things better. Maximizers and settlers just need to be sure to learn from life’s stressful moments, which we have done.
At our house, the boy’s now in charge of washing dishes and putting away groceries. It’ll build character, and it’ll eliminate potential frustrations for his parents.
It’s a win-win, but I’ll miss seeing the way she blows the stray hair out of her face.
