Why o why do I continue to go Moe’s Southwest Grill? Is it because I secretly have it out for my stomach and want to punish my bowels at all cost? Tonight, Jenn and I had the perfect escape clause when we realized Kid’s night was on Monday and not Tuesday night. Our attempts to leave nonchalantly were thwarted after Maddie pleaded (parent speak for completely freaked out) for a Moo Moo Mr. Cow.
She won this round and we decide to order our food. I choose my usual, a Joey Bag of Donuts. The poor burrito did not stand a chance. I devour it in a matter of minutes without coming up for breath. This was not a smart move on my part. As I now struggle with a bad case of indigestion, I begin to ponder other choices in my life I regret making.
Here is just a sampling of the many regretful decisions I’ve made over time:
Deciding to waste two hours of my life watching Swing Vote. Who knew that Kevin Costner still had it in him to make a movie worst than Waterworld? Granted, the film did have one bright spot. It is the only movie ever to create bipartisanship among political rivals. Republicans, Democrats, Independents and even most Communist were willing to cross party lines and create an amendment demanding Hollywood refund every moviegoer who purchased a ticket to this political “satire.”
Deciding to dye my hair while my parents were on vacation in 1997. I was trying to look like Billy Joe Armstrong, the lead singer from Green Day, by saying good riddance to my Mr. Straight Lace look. Instead of coming out Billy Joe blonde, it turned my scalp into Big Bird bright yellow. Let’s just say that people had the time of their life making fun of this nimrod.
Deciding to take for granted how quickly Maddie would grow up. Don’t get me wrong there are moments upon moments with her that I will cherish forever. Late night bottles, dirty diapers, tea parties, movie nights and cuddling on the couch are just a few. Yet, registering Maddie for kindergarten, I am now realizing how my priorities have been of whack and my push for “me” time seems silly now.
Deciding my body could handle eating an entire Watermelon after being dared to do so at a summer picnic with family friends (are you noticing a trend here?). It appeared the first few hours afterwards that my belly would reign victorious. That was until about 2 in the morning when watermelon seeds rained from the sky in the bathroom. The walls, once white, now have a permanent pink sorbet tint to them.
Deciding to not listen to Jenn’s advice to put on sunscreen while at a water park. After all, it was a sunny, but cool day and I was an Italian who had never been sunburned before. Well, like the saying goes there is a first time for everything, even sun poisoning. I spent the next week soaking in a white vinegar bath while my skin peeled like a shell off a hard boiled Easter egg.
Deciding to not attend a large university with a strong athletic program, not because I was an athlete, but because I am a big sports fan. This regret showed up every time I’d go to a Penn State football or Maryland basketball game. Instead of being a Cameron Crazy, Orange Crush or a part of the Nittany Nation, I was one of about 20 fans nicknamed the Messiah Mutes who cheered on the Division III powerhouse women’s basketball program.
Deciding to pass a car on a double yellow line while in a 16-passenger van filled with kids. We were late coming home from a youth ski trip and I didn’t want to look irresponsible as the fresh faced youth pastor so I just went for it. Pulling into the parking lot, all the parents were there waiting for me as well as the off duty cop who was behind the church van and watched the entire incident go down. She was none to pleased with my behavior and slapped me with a driving ticket.
This last one touches upon a section of my life that had numerous regrets: my time as a youth pastor. Some of these regrets came from my own doing and others as a result of my reactions to things that happened to me. As I try to pinpoint where my indecisiveness originates, I keep coming back to those three years spent in Ashton where an idealistic dreamer somehow turned into a bitter cynic who was now worried about taking another incorrect step. Going into greater detail as to why this is the case will have to wait till my next blog post. I know this could appear to be a cheap teaser forcing you to come back to hear the rest of the story. However, I am pressing pause on delving into this regret mainly because this topic demands more attention, but also due to my bad indigestion. Welcome to Moe’s is about to welcome in the stinky stink into my bathroom.