Flying Beans

Remember times when you were young and time stood still? When you thought to yourself, was that gathering just one more of many times together? What could make one lunch any more memorable than any other?

Picnics with all family members assembled around the campfire paints a portrait of a well established memory. The food, the chatter, the smell of the grill all instilled memories that I will always cherish.

Then there were times, you wished had never happened. Or, they even though they did happen, hopefully had been forgotten.

So it was on a simple summer day when I was eight years old. My dad successfully grilled the burgers with no major incidents. A slight breeze greeted our family outing. Each member did their part to assemble a splendid picnic.

However, the gentle breeze unexpectedly gained a wind speed of noticeable strength. The napkins and other paper items started to loft with the air currents. Plates that were not weighted down adequately started to dance with the wind.

Unfortunately, I had not noticed the strength of the breeze until it was too late. I could not catch my plate as it lofted toward my brother. Bake beans splattered across his white shirt. I heard my family laugh hysterically as I sat embarrassed and silent.

A moment to forget was all I wished for that episode. The truth is, that now, many years later, it has become one of the most memorable picnics my siblings recall.

The flying beans humiliated me then in ways I could not explain at the time. Now, thank you, beans for making a lasting memory for us all.

Picnic time. . . making unexpected memories.

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