The deliciousness of a task that is so easy that it flows like yellowy, creamy butter on a steaming-hot-from-the-oven-on-a-Sunday-afternoon roll induces an easy sensation of triumph. A satisfaction so tangible that it almost drips off the chin like a stream of melted butter from that first bite of corn on the cob.
For example, when I hesitantly approached the frightening task of setting up our new Mac, I was overwhelmed by an immediate sense of inadequacy. Upon opening the box and finding only ONE cord, I knew that we had been had by Best Buy and almost tripped over my own shoes in my race across the room to my phone. There is no way a computer can be set up with only one cord! My PC needed 37 different and distinct cords to connect the monitor alone! In a confoundingly miraculous 5 minutes, I achieved the impossible. I set up our computer. ALL by myself. And it runs smooth. Like butter.
This afternoon, my 5 year old niece, visiting from Oregon, was traipsing through my house, cloaked in her princess blanket, with a yawn on her face and that vacant stare in her eyes that signaled she needed a nap, in spite of her protests to the contrary. With the flick of a switch, my XM radio powered on and the soothing sounds of a melodic, Mozart symphony chimed throughout the room. She nestled herself into an overstuffed chair and in minutes was sleeping peacefully. Aunt Char operates smooth, like butter.
Valentine's shopping for my boys this morning resulted in not only a too-good-to-be-true parking space right up front, but also yielded the most PERFECT gift.....for Brock. He is getting a chocolate dog in a cardboard doghouse covered in hearts. I tell ya, shopping for Brock today was smooth. Like butter.
But not everything runs like a drip of melted butter. Some things run like a chunk of cold, refrigerated margarine.
For example, Valentine's shopping for the hubs. Normally, shopping for Clarke is such a simple task, it's almost sickening, actually. But today, as I perused the picked over shelves of shiny, heart-shaped boxes of chocolates and the ridiculous stuffed frogs and monkeys that sing some rendition of a romantic ballad, courtesy of light FM, I was lost for a brilliant gift idea and settled on something tragically common and predictable. I fear my insignificant offering to my prince charming will have me scrambling come Monday morning. Here is my PG-13 back up plan (and perhaps peace offering when Clarke realizes how my adoration translates into a gift): Lingerie Cookies. It's going to take a lot of melted butter (and sugar and sprinkles) to make up for my admittedly pithy Valentine's gift.
Our new wireless printer and I have come to a truce. Unlike the smooth, like butter setup of the Mac, the printer proved to be of the same brain matter of the PC. Complicated, unyielding and frankly a pain in the patoosh. The compromise came in the form of a USB cable, rendering our wireless printer, wired. Following HOURS of setup, cursing, and throwing up my arms and shouting "Why.....why?"the eventual defeat hit me like a frozen brick of Blue Bonnet. *THUD*
In conclusion, ooey gooey butter not only makes everything taste better, but every smooth as butter task gives one an unequivocal sense of remarkable good luck and effortless achievement.
Mmmmm....butter.
