The day before Easter I was at the grocery store early, hoping to avoid the crowds. After I got home and put the groceries away, I pulled out the carton of white eggs I’d bought earlier in the week so I could dye eggs with my son. I was surprised to see only 2 eggs in the carton, as there was still a full carton of the organic eggs which my husband and I normally eat.

My husband was right there, so I said, “You ate the white eggs!”

“I just ate the eggs,” my husband said. “I didn’t pay attention to which ones.”

Fair enough. I drove back to the store, grabbed a carton of white eggs, and went to the same checkout counter I’d gone to earlier.

“Forget something?” asked the young woman who’d checked me out earlier that morning.

Did I just say, “yeah,” and let it go? No. Even as I laughed at myself for doing it, I couldn’t not set her straight.

“My husband ate all the eggs I’d set aside to dye today.”

She didn’t care. Apparently, I did.

When I got home, my husband and son were outside replacing light bulbs and playing with my son’s dump truck.

As soon as I saw my husband, I told him what the checkout person had said and the fact that I couldn’t let it go. I was laughing at my poor ego self, who couldn’t stand the idea of a stranger thinking that I’d “forgotten” something—when I forget things all the time!

The good news about this trivial episode in my daily life is that a) I didn’t berate myself for wanting to be perfect–I just noticed it, and b) I was able to see myself and my imperfections with humor and acceptance.

And I felt good. After my momentary irritation at finding the eggs missing, I was able to “let it go” in that I didn’t punish my husband by being passive-aggressive and acting the martyr, I just went and got more eggs. While I did (unnecessarily) defend myself to the grocery store clerk, I saw what I was doing and accepted that I was doing it.

I didn’t spend any time at all thinking thoughts like: he shouldn’t have eaten those eggs, or why do I have to do everything?, as I might have done in the past.

Not long after that, my husband left to do an errand and my son and I dyed Easter eggs. We had a great time. Those little kits have gotten much easier to use in the years since I last dyed Easter eggs. My husband got home in time to dye some with us and we had a wonderful morning together.

While I continue to argue with reality at times, the times are shorter and less frequent, and it feels so much better than the way things used to be.

Do you argue with reality? How’s that working for you? I’d love to hear about it.