Quill #49 - Soap Dish, Part Deux

For 25 years, I suffered in silence. This one little thing annoyed me, but I managed to remain quiet about it, until one day I snapped. I yelled at my whole family about the way they put the soap on the soapdish in the shower. How could they not know which side was up? One way gave maximum air-drying and minimum melting and they always did it the wrong way - or so I thought.

Almost the same day that I snapped, I found out I was wrong. I went to each person at whom I had yelled and apologized. I told them I was wrong, I was sorry for yelling at them, sorry for being wrong, and even sorry that I was the kind of person who sometimes yelled at others, and who was annoyed by stupid things. I asked them for forgiveness and told them that they had been right about which way to set the soap after a shower. Then, I asked them to return to their previous method. Each one was gracious and accepted my apologies. Each one asked me if I was sure of what I wanted, to which I nodded emphatically, and each one agreed to return to their old ways.

God, in his infinite wisdom, or Loki, in his infinite tricksterhood, has seen fit to remind me of my failings every single day for the rest of my life. Every member of my wonderfully loving family, who would do anything to make me happy, remembers me yelling at them, and what I wanted then. Not one of them remembers the apology.