Unwashed Strawberries

Standing in front of the coffee pot, I just refilled my second cup.  The strawberries are still sitting where they’ve been sitting for the last couple of days.  I bought them to cut up and put on ice cream, but didn’t use them all.  

This morning, it occurred to me that perfectly good food can go to waste, if any effort is required to consume it.  If I had washed the strawberries and put them in a bowl, they would have been eaten.  If I had cut them up with the others, they would have been eaten.  But, these remain locked away in the plastic box they came in, rotting on the counter in plain sight.  

This, in a home where boys scavenge the pantry, counter, and refrigerator day and night.

Seems like a metaphor for all of the things that could be enjoyed, if we weren’t so afraid of work or tiny inconveniences.  It reminds me of the old children’s story, where the housekeeper’s bonus was hiding under the rug.  If she did her job thoroughly - and swept under the rug - she found the treasure that was hers.

While planning nothing in the order of cleaning or hard work on this Saturday morning, and prioritizing relaxation almost always, I am just wondering how many little joys we miss when we heed the lazy voice in our head.  The one that urges us not to bother with the strawberries and to sit back down.