So while, the third grade musical by Emily’s school was wonderful and funny and the kids did a remarkable job, I’ll admit to feeling a little sullen as the words to “Bebop to Aesop” hammered in lessons that I never did much buy into:
- Slow and steady wins the race
- Don’t count your chickens before they hatch
- Look before you leap
- Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today
The costumes, the pageantry, and the reminder that these tales had transcended their era were all well and good, but still, grumpy old me kept thinking–these expressions are for people who do not have normal lives! My version of Aesop would go something like this:
- Slow and steady means you get interrupted by telemarketers and laundry. Hurry up!
- If you don’t count your chickens, the crib will be on back order and won’t come in until your baby is in college.
- Really, people, if you look before you leap, you’ll never have the guts to sky dive or bid on that 2-2 bungalow in Travis Heights. Life is freaking scary.
- As far as getting everthing done today–prioritize. Some of it is better off not done at all. (Does anybody wash their windows anymore? I didn’t think so. Mini blinds.)
After the play, I hugged Emily in her farmer outfit (she was involved in not counting chickens), and hustled home to get some work in. On the counter sat a fortune cookie I’d ignored for a couple days, as I am a little superstitious about fortune cookies–reading one is like a court order to me–a hard-core imperative.
But as I roamed the house, the unread fortune stuck in my mind, so finally I snatched it up. As I pulled away the plastic wrap, the cookie fell to the floor and smashed. Another symbol, I knew, the shattering of illusions? Breaking rules? I don’t like the taste of fortune cookies, so I did not mourn its loss and tugged the slip of paper from the crumbs.
What lay inside validated all my feelings for the day. Gotta love the people who write these fortunes.
Good things come to those who wait, but only the things left by those who hustle.
I’m off to hustle, unsteadily, without looking, and counting embryonic chickens all the while.