I used to suffer from a fear of avocados.
I loved them, and would be happy with a family-sized serving of guacamole all to myself, but I wouldn’t buy avocados in the store.
See, I did once. It was early in marriage, and I was proud of myself for putting Guacamole-from-Scratch on our menu for the night.
But I didn’t know what I was doing. I grabbed the prettiest, shiniest avocados I could find. I took them home and made dinner (I have no idea what it was), and attempted to cut the avocados.
And cutting them was so much more difficult than I thought it would be.
And we couldn’t eat them. They wouldn’t mash up into guacamole, and the slices/chunks I whacked out of them were inedible.
So I went on strike. I didn’t buy another avocado for the next 12 years.
I would buy packages of pre-made guacamole when it was on sale AND I had a coupon, but otherwise we just learned to live without guacamole as part of our Tex-Mex meals.
And we eat a lot of Tex-Mex meals.
Anyway, last year on our first (and next-to-last) liver cleanse when we ate only fruits and veggies for two weeks, I mustered up some courage and asked a little old lady in the grocery store to help me learn how to choose a good avocado.
She was very helpful, and I came home and made perfect guacamole.
And now . . . I buy them all the time. Fresh, homemade guacamole is often my lunch.
And I wonder why I avoided them for all those years.
It’s the same with other things around here. I avoid toys-with-teeny-tiny-parts because we’ve never found an effective way to keep them under control. I won’t let myself near the cutesy-basket-aisle because I start having flashbacks of failed organizing projects of the past.
Thankfully, none of my kids seem to be obsessed with toys that have teeny-tiny-parts, and our home is ever-so-much more organized due to the fact that I let myself JUST declutter.
But maybe at some point, I should try again to use baskets to organize. Maybe I shouldn’t accidentally misplace every toy-with-teeny-tiny-parts that enters our home.
Maybe I could try one basket for the kitchen counter’s never-ending parade of vitamins.