Splatter

While warming up a frozen dinner last night, I heard a loud pop - the universal sound for The Sauce That Was on Your Ravioli is Now All Over the Interior of the Microwave. I sighed, resigning myself to the chore of cleaning it. The thing is, the little oven was already kind of messy, but I'd been ignoring it, waiting for an inevitable explosion that would warrant my attention. 

As I was scrubbing the turntable, I thought, sometimes I deal with life, relationships, the same way. I ignore the little splatters because I'm too tired to deal with them in the moment, or don't know how to address them, or hope someone else will clean them up, maybe even that they'll magically clean themselves. Sometimes they're small enough and I'm in the zone of my hustle and bustle that I don't even realize they're there.

The big blowups can't be ignored, and I usually stop what I'm doing and clean them up right away. But in doing so, I find the scrubbing is needed on those small blotches that have been left to sit. It's always easier to clean them up as soon as they happen than it is to wait. When neglected, they harden. And get crusty. And take more effort to fix than if I had worked on them right away. 

I finished wiping down the last of it and closed the door, vowing to be more proactive in the future. It's something I think I'm working on being better about in my relationships, too.