Just a Little Somethin'

By: Monica

Sometimes I wonder about the little things that irk us throughout the day and make our seemingly burdened situations even more burdened. There are all sorts of minor improvements that could make life a more joyous state, or perhaps a bit more bearable at the very least. I want glasses that don’t slip off my nose and typewriters that don’t actually involve me having to type. I want pre-washed fruit and cows not to fart methane gas so I don’t have to concern myself with how much pollution they are contributing to the already global problem. I want potato chip bags to close themselves after I’m done taking a handful so I don’t have to worry about them staying crispy and fresh. I want for mechanical pencils to never run out of lead. I want shoes to tie themselves and for high heels to feel like sneakers. I want my car keys and cell phone to float around at my side so I never lose track of them. I want airplanes to let me pick my seat when I get on them. I want carpets to never scrunch at the corners of my bed. I want band-aids to stay on and ibuprofen to work within the first five minutes and maybe for life to be a little less complicated.

But, then again, these little hindrances define our humanity. Life is filled with the emotions we exchange with our fellow human beings. And animals. And, most importantly, ourselves. How your nose wrinkles every time you prevent your glasses from slipping off of your face. The determined look you get when typing vigorously. The way you care to run the apple under warm water before drying it off and handing it to me. The laugh you emit when you find out that cows fart methane gas. The scowl you throw me when you bite into a stale chip because I failed to close the bag correctly. The trip to the store to buy more lead for my mechanical pencils—and another bag of chips—thus forcing me to interact with society. The way you offer me your arm to lean on when my heels start to cut off the circulation in my feet. Your relieved expression when I find the car keys wedged in the backseat of my van. The excitement of searching for my assigned seat on an airplane. 46 ABC… 47 ABC… 48 ABC. Your sigh when I ask you to help me straighten out the carpet for the fourteenth time this month. When you hand me a Superman band-aid because you noticed my Ninja Turtles one is coming off. When you pack a bag of ice for my head and tell me pointless stories until I fall asleep. These are the countless emotions we pass through each other on a daily basis. This is the beauty of life’s complexity.