Guilt is the fastest vehicle for self loathing

I was having the most pleasant Saturday afternoon today- I finished a good book and went to the Monticello Art in the Park fair which is totally my kinda thing, and then BAM I feel like a horrible, irresponsible JERK.

Let me back up.

My husband spoils me pretty regularly with little surprises and treats from the store. Just little things he knows I'd enjoy- like bringing me home my favorite candy bar or a new cookie that he thinks I'd like.

So today when I found something that I thought he'd like, I was feeling pretty good about myself. I'm FINALLY gonna score some brownie points to try to even up the field. I found this fancy-schmancy Sweet Hot Mustard that's won all sorts of awards, so I think "awesome, he's totally gonna love this!"

I decide that brats would be a good dinner choice for this new gourmet mustard, so step outside to check the grilling weather.

I look down from my 2nd story deck and see on the rocks below his mp3 player, smashed.

First thoughts:
How irresponsible of him to drop it off the deck!! I can't believe he was so careless! How did it get down there! Well, if he's not going to be responsible with his stuff than he just doesn't get to have nice things.

The screen is broken, so it's pretty much useless. By now, the initial thought of anger has worn off because I know how much he enjoys his music, so I'm starting to feel bad for him.

I call him to tell him what I've discovered and we're both perplexed as to how it got down there so we walk through it:

He had it when we rode our bikes to the beach last weekend but that was the last time he used it.

What happened since then to cause it to fall off the deck?

We got home from the beach, I empty out the beach bag haphazardly and then I took it outside to shake out the sand.

So how did he drop it down there??

Wait, the last time he touched it was putting it in the beach bag.

I shook out the beach bag, over the railing of the deck.

GASP!

It.was.me.

My gut reaction is to play innocent, deny that it's my fault maybe he won't connect the dots to realize that it IS my fault.

Instead, I do the painful grown-up thing and confess: it was me and I'm sorry! I don't know how I missed it when I was cleaning out the bag, but I must've and I'm sorry!

His response: "that's okay. It happens."

Uh, pretty sure I'd be screaming my head off at him if the situations were reversed- yep, that's just a cold hard fact, I'd never let him forget it. Then I'd demand that he take me to the store so I can get a newer, better one and I'd still be mad at him. And all he says it's "it's okay" and "it happens"?!?

So now, not only do I feel guilty about breaking his mp3 player and losing all the music he put on there, I now have to feel guilty at how easily he took it in stride.

Which makes me feel even worse!

I guess there's a lesson to be learned in all this: I shouldn't be too hard on people when accidents happen because they probably feel guilty enough about it.

But for now, I'm stewing with guilt. Maybe tomorrow I'll learn the lesson.