Tuesday, June 7, 2011
He obliged, pulled over, and asked, "What kind?"
"I'll take a lemon, please," I answered, already tasting that perfect sweet and tart taste on my tongue.
He handed me the one that clearly was yellow inside and I tore off the wrapper, popped it into my mouth and said, "Ew! This is banana!"
Of course it was banana. No way in the world for it to possibly be lemon. None.
Yet I really wanted it to be lemon. Because it was yellow, because it was a Popsicle, because it was what I'd somehow decided it was what I needed, wanted, and yes, deserved, I just felt totally cheated out of my lemon Popsicle.
The banana had done me wrong.
I hated that banana Popsicle and everything about it, until I finally pulled my head out and saw the metaphor for life: nothing wrong with a banana Popsicle. It's just not lemon. Nobody promised me lemon. Lemon is not better or worse, just different. It's lemon. Being mad at banana because it's not lemon is as silly as all the other things I'm mad about just because they aren't what I wanted or expected them to be. Time to embrace all the bananas in my life.