We continue with Guest Asker Anne
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This weekend my children all praised me for how I handle my anger and frustration.
I was ironing clothes for the upcoming week. The iron popped and that was it. Another iron dead and useless. The third in about seven months.
I walked out into the front room and asked Nick to put on some goggles and work shoes. He responded fairly quickly to this request.
I gave him the defunct iron and asked him to smash it into unrecognizable pieces for me.
Suddenly there was a flurry of interest in what Nick was doing. Jacob and his friend decided they would love to help. Jacob insisted that what they needed were firecrackers. AND I DID NOT PROTEST.
They were unable to explode the darned thing, but did take turns with a sledge hammer beating the thing into the ground. Nick thanked me for giving him that task.
We all piled in the truck and went to the dollar store for a new iron. I will listen to no commentary on purchasing an iron from the dollar.
Once we got home, I pulled out the new iron and, out of habit, started to file the instruction manual. Two steps into that process, I stopped.
"I will NOT save another manual for a stupid iron. I hate the stupid manual. You know what, I want this to burn. Let's go burn some instructions!"
I had four kids flying out the door extolling me.
Well, I can't be the only anger person out here. So.....
What was the last thing that you wanted to smash to pieces?
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6 comments:
Sadly, my anger is less properly directed. The last thing I wanted to smash to pieces was my sketch pencil - a fit of rage that surprised even me.
It's not the PENCIL's fault I've not been happy with my sketches lately, nor that the lead keeps popping and breaking.
And yet, after the third pop and a failed attempt at a turtle peeking out from beneath a lasagna noodle, I would happily have crushed the sketch pencil into dust.
I did not do so.
But it was tempting.
Everything. Just everything.
TamiJean tells me I run just shy of pissed off a good deal of the time. It was a defense mechanism I adjusted to long ago and I think rather than getting rid of it, I found a way to control it at that stage. If I get mad on a normal basis, I just move a very small degree. Not much of a change. A strange form of self control I assume.
But when I do pass that threshold, I'm basically just a green monster and want to smash...well everything.
Doesnt happen much anymore. I'd say not even yearly.
Hell, it wasnt until recently that I was made away that I still run just shy of pissed off. Guess there are some issues I still need to work on. :D
@ TamiJean,
You know...maybe the pencil was trying to ask you why you were attempting to draw a turtle peeking out frome a lasagne noodle. Maybe it WAS the pencil's fault.
@Anne
It's Justin's fault!
@ TamiJean,
Oh, Clearly! That rotten Justin.
@ Mr. Moore,
Do you ever worry about the possibility of being just a figment of Stan Lee's imagination?
my neighbor's stereo!
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