If you’re going to spill food, you’ve got to do it with panache.

I guess I have a tendency to be clumsy, but I kind of congratulate myself on the ability to hide it. At least mostly. This comes from YEARS of practice. I wobble on a too tall shoe, but nobody notices because I turn it into my distinctive way of walking in those shoes.

But, lately I’ve noticed a tendency to become chew-the-scenery clumsy. And I’m pretty heartbroken about the whole thing. Being clumsy but not actually appearing clumsy was my thing. I guess that’s over because now I seem to be focusing on producing stooge-like displays of the clumsy. For example, the other night I was eating a big bowl of spaghetti. Spaghetti that I had prepared perfectly to suit me. Which means the parmesan to sauce to pasta ratio was perfectly aligned. My ratio is 30/30/40. I hear you gasping at the cheese overrepresentation, but this is what my taste buds demand and who am I to argue? Anyway, guess who executed a perfect maneuver to throw 45% of that stupid spaghetti on the floor? ME! Not my kids, but ME! ME!! And it wasn’t a quick drop of the food. Oh no. That’s so boring and unworthy of attention. It began with the fork executing a leap into the air with a triple lutz/double toe loop combination. There might have been a quad something or other in there. I was too busy producing my giant “Oh no” squeal as I attempted to protect my perfectly prepared spaghetti from certain disaster to notice. My attempts to protect my food were useless as, after my fork was completing its rotation, the plate was restabilizing itself after its recent fork weight loss and overcompensated, with my help, and the food began to make its escape. Since food isn’t particularly brainy, it saw an opportunity to escape my stomach and made its escape to the floor. It did so with a flourish, never seeming to realize that its fate wasn’t particularly improved as it would now languish in a landfill since we don’t exactly have the space to accommodate a compost pile here. (Do your homework, spaghetti!) After the food landed, there was a moment of silence in the room as we all looked at the mess. I waited for applause, as it seemed warranted for such a flamboyant display. I received none. So, I’ll admit that I began the cleanup process with a bit of an attitude as I felt I was owed an ovation.

I’m thinking this clumsy escalation is going to make eating out a bit embarrassing. I’m going to need low-lit restaurants with seating in the back, and I’ll need to always dine with a bunch of very young kids. So I can blame anything that happens on them.

11 thoughts on “If you’re going to spill food, you’ve got to do it with panache.

  1. From a fellow clumsy chick, I hear ya. I don’t drink milk anymore simply because I accidentally knocked mine over at dinner every night for 4 years straight as a child. I decided to be lactose intolerant so that I would stop doing that. But I’m still trip over my own feet clumsy.

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