Burritos & Muffins

Yesterday morning I walked into the kitchen and found my teenage son standing in front of the open fridge staring at a single breakfast burrito, as if it had wronged him personally. He did not move. He did not speak. He just stood there, blinking at it.

I asked him what he was doing.He said, “Thinking about my life.”

The breakfast burrito was not involved in that reflection, but it was clearly the staging area.

A few minutes later, he announced that he was “not in the mood for school today,” which is the daily equivalent of the sun rising. He said it with the same tone he uses when deciding between two shirts. He's defintely not looking for input. He grabbed a protein bar and left the burrito entirely unresolved.

After he walked out the door, I realized I had been doing a version of the same thing all week. Actually... all month.

Not with breakfast burritos. But with decisions.

I keep opening things. Website, emails, outlines... staring at them and then wandering off. Nothing is wrong with any of them. They are fine. They are necessary. They are waiting. And I am not moving. Not stuck, exactly. More like suspended. Half in, half out, blinking at something I could easily just pick up and finish.

Later in the afternoon, I watched an older man at Kowalskis do the same thing in the bakery section. He stood in front of the muffins for a strangely long time. No phone out. No list. Just there. Considering. Or maybe enjoying the two minutes of muffin gazing.

I did not interrupt. He looked like he needed the muffins (or the moment) more than I did.

Driving home, I thought about all of us standing in front of our own muffins. Not melting down. Just taking a beat that no one planned or labeled. A pause that does not mean anything dramatic. It is just part of the day.

Last night the burrito was still in the fridge. My son ignored it again as a viable meal option.

And I opened that marketing email again and stared at it like it was going to introduce itself.

Maybe it will.

Or maybe it will not.

Either way, the day moved forward and the fridge light eventually turned off on its own.

~E