Last night I burned the broccoli.
I was grilling cheeseburgers and had a fresh bag of BBQ potato chips ready to go when I decided we needed something green on the plate. I patted myself on the back for thinking so responsibly and being such a conscientious parent. I threw some frozen broccoli in a pan, turned on the stove, and went back outside to flip the burgers.
15 minutes later, I brought the grilled goodness inside to find a kitchen filled with smoke. I’d totally forgotten about the veg and burned it black on one side.
As my wife, Alison, dressed her cheeseburger 10 minutes later, she looked at the blackened pan and asked, “What happened over there?” I informed her that I had “ruined the broccoli” in a less-than-friendly tone. Ali replied, “Well, why do you sound so upset?”
When I told her that I was disappointed that I’d messed up part of the meal and felt embarrassed about filling the kitchen with smoke she just laughed. “Andy, no one cares about your broccoli.” The kids jumped in and said “She’s right, Dad. We were kind of bummed when we saw you get it out.”
And with that, everyone began to happily crunch chips and devour cheeseburgers as if nothing had happened. I decided to hear what they were saying and just let the whole broccoli thing go. We had a great meal together.
I wonder how often I’ve burned broccoli that no one else cared about. How many times have I pushed myself to finish something before going home when no one would have cared if I’d just done it the next morning? How many events for my kids have I beat myself up for missing when they honestly didn’t care in the slightest? How many clients have I called over and over again when they would have been completely content with a text message? How many promises have I made and struggled to uphold when the person I promised honestly didn’t give a crap?
Sometimes we push ourselves to standards no one else holds for us, and we tell ourselves that we’re a failure if we don’t succeed. I think that mentality is often the difference between feeling accomplished and feeling like a failure. We’d all probably benefit from stopping now and then to ask ourselves “Does anyone else truly want this? Is this a standard that actually matters? Does anyone care if I burn this broccoli?” If the answer to any of these questions is “no,” maybe we can just take that responsibility off our plate and feel fine about it.