hindsight

C'mon, do we love her? Hindsight is the smarter, funnier, cooler version of me and sometimes I don't actually love her. She tends to, well, show up too late - like the other day when I was at the mall and little O wanted to go on the obscene new attraction near the Foodcourt dubbed the "Carousel of Tormented and Recently Nauseated Parents". It costs a mere $2, but for someone like me who pays with plastic vs. cash and only has enough for the turnpike ride home at the bottom of my fantastic sumptious leather handbag and doesn't know her ATM pin number, I encountered a teensy bit of of a problem. Hindsight says, "You should have been more prepared. Who doesn't know their pin? Now you have a screaming 2 year old who will not be comforted by even the biggest M&M studded Mrs. Fields cookie. Next time you should offer the ride lady more than $1.30 in change and some lipgloss (only partially used) and the oversized pink button. Let this be a lesson for you." It wasn't. Picture the same scenario 3 times. She now busies herself with the rotating ad space featuring the law offices of some guy with a funny moustache and a teenagery girl with a glittery cell phone. She also reared her fresh mouth when I consumed an entire bag of dried apricots and mango slices. Like the Sunsweet Ones Individually Wrapped Prunes Episode Take 2 - more a suggested serving size instead of a creative name. Or the stressful day last week when it seemed like a fantastic idea to cut my own bangs (again). These are not good choices. These are times when I would prefer foresight. I really like her - she is on the ball, I tell you! But, her arguments are not always as convincing or charming or fun than my own and that's when hindsight really hurts even more. Remember when you thought about getting the septic tank pumped in the fall but kept putting it off and now we have 17 feet of snow on the front lawn and you thought you caught a whiff of some suspicious smell and so you called the pumper guy and he giggled a little bit about your timing? Double ouch. I am always an advocate for natural consequences, but I have decided those are only for children. I am at a way higher stage of development - denial and oblivion.