The "No Crying Over Spilled Milk" Story

It was an ordinary day. I was at the grocery store buying food for the week. Since I retired from teaching in 1999, I have made an effort to help Carol with the chores that she did for years. She is still working and I usually have more time than she does to do the chores. I try to clean the house, do the wash and go to the grocery store, all on Friday. I do the outdoor jobs on another day. It's Friday and I'm on my final chore of the day. Tough doing these jobs. Much easier having a good time with the kids in my class at MTHS. Then, as I'm walking down an aisle in the store pushing the cart, I look down by my feet and see drops of a white liquid on the floor. Someone must have milk in their cart and is leaking it all over the store. No matter where I push the cart, there is the milk. Making a real mess. I worked in a grocery store for five years during high school and college and when someone made a mess like this, I would get really angry. I would have to take the mop and clean the floor. Now I'm at the meat counter and as I'm putting my chicken in my cart it slips out of my hand. Pull it out to put it in a plastic bag when I notice a much larger white puddle under my cart. Holy Cow! My milk is leaking all over the floor. It is me who is making the mess. Now what do I do? Find the manager and tell him what has happened and volunteer to help clean up the floor. "No problem," he tells me. "Thanks for letting me know." I feel like a jerk. Matter of fact I am a jerk for thinking it was someone else all along when the white spots were always near me. But, hey, it's my third big job of the day and I'm wearing out! Can't think right. Now I realize why Carol was always worn out and could never think straight when I was still teaching. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.