Sunday evening someone left a big wooden crate of lemons on my front step. There were lemons spilling out of the crate and rolling down the steps into my front yard.
Lemons were everywhere.
Oh, what to do with all those lemons.
While I could have decided not to bring the lemons inside, that thought never occurred to me. I picked up the lemons that had rolled down the stairs and brought them into the house. I went back out to get the crate. I placed them all on the kitchen table.
Jenny’s best friend was spending the night, so Jenny was happily oblivious, and didn’t even notice the lemons. Will helped me pick up lemons, all the while asking questions.
“Why did we get lemons?”
“What are we going to do with the lemons?”
“How come someone else can’t take the lemons?”
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Sunday night I received the first of several calls asking about the crate of lemons:
“O.M.G., I heard about the crate of lemons!!”
“Did you see the lemons on the news?”
“You know it’s going to be all over the morning papers about the lemons, don’t you?”
“What are you going to do with all the lemons?”
Finally, to one caller I said, “I’m sorry. I know you want to talk about this, but I cannot talk about lemons right now.”
And so we went to sleep with lemons rolling off of our kitchen table.
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When I tiptoed out to the kitchen the next morning, I found the crate of lemons spilling off the table. I’d been hoping that maybe they’d disappear in the middle of the night.
Then the phone started ringing and texts started appearing.
I told Jen and Will not to answer the phone.
I tried to busy myself with paperwork to avoid dealing with the lemons. Their scent filled the air. I couldn’t get away from them.
I found the note I’d written about the acquaintance whose home had suffered serious fire damage. I’d called her eight days ago to see if I could help. She never called back. And because I was exhausted from trying to ignore the lemons, I thought to myself, “Hell, I’ve got enough on my plate with all these frickin’ lemons everywhere, I don’t need to be worrying about someone else and their problems.”
I threw the note in the garbage.
After a few more well-meaning folks called about the lemons, we did the only thing we could think to do… we started tossing lemons at each other and laughing. We laughed at the pungent scent of the lemon skins and their smoothness and how they made great little footballs. We laughed at how funny it was that we were the recipients of this crappy crate of lemons.
We felt better for awhile.
But after the laughter quieted and the kids headed over to the park, I started to feel sorry for myself – about the lemons.
Why had I gotten these lemons?
What did I do to deserve all these lemons?
I’m a good person, I shouldn’t be getting lemons.
Then it occurred to me that I didn’t have to accept the lemons!
Just because they were placed at my front door doesn’t mean I needed to let them in the house!
I don’t have to do anything with the lemons! It’s true! I don’t have to make lemonade or lemon chiffon pie or lemon bars. I moved the crate to the garage, because I wasn’t ready to move them to the dumpster – just in case.
I walked back in the house.
I stood at the kitchen counter for a second, wondering what to do next.
I pulled the garbage can out from under the kitchen sink and started digging under the loose paper scraps, wet filters full of coffee grounds and crusts of peanut butter sandwiches. I found the soggy note with the acquaintance’s phone number – the gal with the burned home.
I called her and left a message.
This time she called me back. She’d felt awkward about asking for help, and that’s why she hadn’t called back a week ago. She really could use the help and she was so glad that I decided to call her today.
** The Lemons symbolize a big pile of family mess.
I can understand the symbolism of the lemons. The word sour automatically comes to mind when I think of them. Why would I want or deserve to be associated with something sour? I can’t help but think also of your profile, which makes note of turning a bad situation into something good. Turn all of those lemons into a hell of a good vodka lemonade :), or in your case one fun lemon football fight, which gives them now a power of being sweet and fun. The lemons may be equated to something bad previously, but you can choose to morph it’s meaning now into something good, or maybe just something different. Hence you don’t have to accept them, house them :). You can determine their fate.
If you’ve had enough of that killer Vodka Lemonade Cocktail, what’s the point of having lemons in the house? Smooth move!
Kira,
Love your comment. We do have control over how we react.
We can Choose our Attitude.
We can wallow in self-pity or turn the bad into something constructive.
We can choose to laugh.
We can choose to quit thinking of ourselves and help someone else.
We can feel better.
Exactly my dear :), & you did do this, by calling the woman in need of assistance, and using the lemons as something fun with your kids. It’s all about finding some silver lining, not perfect, but better. From a negative space there’s always a positive moment – experience in there.
Some people have never learned that the lemons they choose to harvest in their own lives are not valued by other people. They don’t realize that when they leave one of their many baskets of lemons behind, that basket winds up on someone else’s front doorstep. They are clueless to the fact that all their loose lemons wreak havoc in other people’s lives. You’ve had the basket delivered to your front porch before, and you’ll probably wind up with another one some day.
Remember my friend’s advice: Don’t pick that up. It doesn’t belong to you.
Pat,
I need to remember that when the harvesters try to convince me that their lemons belong to me.
Isn’t it something how people react to certain things? I have a cousin who if she would have received those lemons she would have been thrilled! She eats lemons like oranges she even eats the rind of the lemon skin! I use to watch her eat her lemons with such delight all over her face. I would just marvel at the sight, could never understand it…still don’t.
How does the saying go? “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure.”
I know I am looking at this in a totally different way, I hope that is okay. :o)
Marci,
Seriously? Eww…. That’s a lot of lemon!
I KNOW!!! :o)