Just yesterday morning, Tom was getting ready to go fishing when our paths crossed as I was going from the bed to my first cup of coffee. He was carrying some blueberries that he was planning to put on his cereal, and being the doting wife that I am, I told him to continue getting ready for his fishing trip, and I would fix his cereal a la blueberries.
But on the way to the kitchen, I tripped and all of the blueberries fell on the floor.
I hurriedly picked them up and put them back in their container.
It was then that I made the decision that "a little dirt never hurt anyone," and in the bowl they went. It was a split-second decision with Doubt nowhere in sight.
I did feel a little sheepish when Tom said these particular blueberries were crunchier than normal but the best ones he had ever tasted.
But then Doubt showed up and I felt really bad.
Tom doesn't know about the blueberry incident and my unpleasant encounter with Doubt, so don't tell him, okay?
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