I just didn’t get it. Why did Matthew only want peanut butter and honey sandwiches that I made? How in the world did very simple and straightforward a+b=a peanut putter and honey sandwich become so much in demand?
Karl didn’t get it either. He knows how practical and “let’s just get this done,” I am and he was also bewildered. He had technique in making a sandwich and he took his time with the attentions to detail, but my sandwich got the ranking of super duper and only mine was good enough for Matthew. How could this be?
Then one day I ruined it all. I showed them how I made the sandwich.
I think at this point, there are not enough words in any thesaurus to convey the amount of disappointment, let-down and “really, that’s all there is to it?” As far as technique goes, Karl’s scored way more in the artistic area. Me – I just slapped down two pieces of bread. Put peanut butter on one. Squirted honey on top of the peanut butter, so that I didn’t have to use a knife or anything to spread it – too much fuss – then slapped on the top piece of bread. Done. Eat. You’ve been provided for.
After the “great disappointment” as to my secret method, we were able to ascertain that since I didn’t blend the peanut butter and honey together artistically with a knife like Karl did; and since I didn’t put the honey on its own slice of bread like most amateurs (it starts soaking into the bread immediately and losing its potency) that somehow my simple method allowed for light airy layers that tantalized Matthew’s taste buds.
But it was no longer called the super duper peanut butter and honey sandwich.
Since when did something, simple and perfect just the way it is, deserve to be ostracized from the super duper? Why does something have to have tons of steps, like Common Core math, or lots of bling (lifeystyles of the rich and famous)? If something is good, perfect even, and simple – why can’t it also be super duper?
It’s not the first time. We human beings have a way of rejecting the simple and perfect, because we’re expecting something spectacular and flashy. If we like it, if it’s good, well then of course it has to be over the top – right? It couldn’t possibly be simple.
I still make peanut butter and honey sandwiches the same way, even if they’ve lost the title of super duper. Nothing has changed in the sandwich itself. It is just the preconceived ideas and expectations of the recipient. Time to do some inventory. Are there things I’ve been given that are perfect though simple, that I refuse to call super duper just because it’s not super flashy? Time to call all the blessings, gifts, people and things that I love what they are: super duper!