The self reminder of needing to buy a replacement tablespoon took on “special” significance for me this morning. The tablespoon. Most would call it idiosyncrasy. A clark knows it is representative. Of something. Allow me to explain…At a point in my self-evolution, the use of a tablespoon for select activities took on a, shall we say, unique quality. No. Not a quirky habit. For clarks there is no such thing as a “quirky” habit. That term, “quirky’, would be the descriptor a roger might use. The tablespoon, for me, has a specific use aside from that ascribed by Ms. Post. Among other things, it is used to eat cereal out of a mug (mostly – under special circumstances, a bowl). I broke another pink polka dotted tablespoon the other night. Under precisely the same set of circumstances (there’s that word again! “circumstance”). Impatience had driven me to plunge my favorite pink polka dotted tablespoon into the carton of ice cream in an attempt to scoop it out before it was ready to be taken out. Snap! A clean break, it broke pretty much in the same place as my previous pink polka dotted tablespoon. And so, it would appear, lessons are often not learned, even as we find ourselves in the midst of doing a thing in which our brains are screaming “don’t do it”! I knew the probability was high the spoon would break, yet I persisted. Why do we disregard what our body is telling us and allow another part of us to convince us to take the chance it won’t happen again?