What’s your beef?

My average time for recognizing my own idiocy is almost immediate. My average time for admitting it, and then apologizing, is running at approximately eighteen hours. This is not good. Nope.

Himself and I were making dinner last night, and I was in a snit about how to brown the ground beef.

Yes. How to brown the ground beef.

Because I have one way, and he has another, and I had the foolish idea that my way was the right way.

So we argued. Or, really, I insisted on having hurt feelings. So stupid. Because, really, does the way one browns ground beef to one’s personal satisfaction really the thing to be fighting over? I don’t think so. I knew it then, but I didn’t want to admit it. I preferred holding on to my own feelings of what was right. I was being “wronged.” I was not “being validated.” I “couldn’t do anything right.” Same old, same old. Bullshit ego that insists on its own way.

And all morning, I’ve been worrying this bit of conflict around in my head. And finally, after a good bit of thought, I realized that I was actually being sinfully prideful.

There was absolutely no good reason to insist on my way. There was absolutely no good reason that my way was actually any better than his way. There was absolutely zero reason that, it being some comfort food being prepared to make him feel better, that I should want to make it in any way than the one he preferred.

My way isn’t better. It’s not right. It’s just my way.

It’s ground beef, for Goodness’ sakes.

Self, you need to get over it already.

Lately, I’ve been coming across an old prayer called the “Litany of Humility,” (original wording here; explanation and revised wording here) and I think there’s probably a reason for that. I need to start this prayer more, to be sure, if for no other reason than I really do need to be delivered from any nonsensical idea that my hurt feelings are more important than the good of our relationship. Especially in such a trivial thing as how to brown ground beef.

Good Lord, have mercy. It was ground beef.

I’m calling to apologize.