It was a miscalculation
Down was easier than up
One simple baking dish.
It had a bread like shape and was made of Pyrex.
It belonged inside of the big Pyrex dish with others.
“You’ll need a stool, chair or to get on the counter to put those away”, I was told.
Me? I have big, long arms. Despite my limited stature, I have reach. I have a wingspan that is shockingly big.
I reached up and took the dishes down. The glass bread pan went in the big Pyrex along with a round casserole dish and its lid.
As I reached up with the collection, the round glass lid from the casserole dish leapt from the collection.
Everything slowed down.
A heavy glass lid falling three feet onto a quartz counter top would have predictable consequences.
Not this time though. I caught it with my elbows.
I couldn’t move.
Any move I could make would result in destruction.
“Help help help,” I called.
The help tried to reach up to the dish over my head.
They wanted to take the dish that I had secure in my hands.
They ignored the dish that I had jammed between my elbows and the cupboard shelf.
It’s understandable why. The one over my head looked heavy. It looked dangerous. From the person outside of my experience, it looked like the problem.
“By my elbows!” I shouted.
The round lid was removed. I lowered the remaining dishes to the counter, replaced the lid and vowed to put it away later.
Much of the time we find ourselves needing help, people from the outside, who we’re looking for help from will see what they see and help where it might not be helpful.
At times like that, it’s helpful to be specific about the kind of help you’re looking for.
It’s like the old saying goes:
When you’re putting dishes away over your head, it’s sometimes a good idea to use a step stool.