I Chose…Poorly

I love the Indiana Jones movies, and one of my favorite scenes is in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. After the German drinks from the wrong cup and turns to dust, the knight calmly says, "He chose... poorly."

That line has a way of popping into my head whenever I do something... less than brilliant.

It proved true once again while watering the chickens.

I usually take the hose into the coop and fill the 10-gallon waterer in place. This time, though, I decided it would be a good idea to carry it outside so I could clean it first. So far, so good.

I could have cleaned it, carried the empty container back into the coop, and then filled it where it belonged.

But we all have choices...

And I chose poorly.

Instead, I filled it with all 10 gallons of water before moving it. I conveniently forgot that 10 gallons weighs about 83 pounds. It wasn't too bad lifting it a few inches and carrying it a few feet back to the coop.

Then I reached the doorway.

Standing between me and success was the short gate across the entrance that's there to keep the chickens in and the dogs out.

Once again, I had choices.

I could have set the waterer down and dumped out a few gallons. I could have removed the gate.

But...

I chose poorly.

Determined to prove that stubbornness is not the same thing as wisdom, after a few pulls, I gave it one mighty heave.

The waterer cleared the gate.

Landing on top of my flip-flop-clad foot.

As I stood there assessing my life choices (and my toes), I realized this whole ordeal could have been avoided if I had made one better decision at any of the many crossroads along the way. Instead, I kept doubling down on a bad plan.

Thankfully, this lesson only cost me a sore foot and a bruised ego.

Life, however, often presents us with much more important choices. Rarely do we end up in trouble because of one giant mistake. More often, it's a series of small decisions where we ignore the easier, wiser path because we're in a hurry, too stubborn, or convinced we're already committed.

I'm hoping the next time I hear that little voice say, "You chose poorly," I'll stop long enough to reconsider before I make the next choice.

And maybe... just maybe... I'll wear real shoes.