Yesterday morning, I ran over a box of Zebra Cakes. It was lying in the street outside the elementary school by our house, and running it over was an accident. In that I thought the box was empty, and I love running over trash with my car. But when I looked in the rearview mirror to see the fruits of my harmless destruction, I instead saw icing, wrappers, a flattened box and one intact package of cakes lying a few feet from its fallen comrades. There were cars behind me; I panicked and drove on. But all day, and all night, and today too, I've been overcome with guilt. Crazy, constant, perhaps disroportionate guilt. Yesterday was the last day of school, and those Zebra Cakes were bought by a parent to celebrate the start of summer. The close of another successful year. And I flattened it all. Kind of on purpose. There's nothing I can do, short of leaving a replacement box in the street, so for now I'll live with sadness in my heart and striped icing on my hands. Whoever you are, (irresponsible) kid who dropped your snacks in the middle of 52nd street, I'm really, genuinely sorry.
After my family was here for Easter, I found a small pocket notebook in our dining room - the spiral-bound kind that detectives use. I remembered my brother using it to take notes on the combination of sauces and seasonings he used to smoke our Easter ribs (classy tradition est. 2011), and I texted him, saying I'd drop it in the mail. He told me not to bother; it wasn't worth the postage. "You should look at the quote in the front though." So of course I didn't. I left the notebook in a catch-all bowl in the kitchen, with Trident wrappers, bobbypins and brown bananas. But I found it again tonight and finally read the quote.
"The texture of our universe is one where there is no question at all but that good and laughter and justice will prevail." -Desmond Tutu