"Spones" and the Spirit of Detachment

Many of you may be trying to guess what this image may be. I'll let you guess for a while...
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Some of you may have accurately guessed that it is a picture of today's lesson in humility. As many of you know, I take a certain amount of pride in putting my former lesson planning skills into use by making weekly menus. Some may think I'm a bit too much of a control freak about this (and yes, I am still aware of who fell behind on their shift on the Thanksgiving cooking schedule last year), but I do enjoy making my menus. I've really been on a roll the last few weeks too, organization and preparation have really worked out. And this morning the plan was to make blueberry scones before church so there would be less wait post-mass for our brunch. It all worked out beautifully, Mary Ann slept until nearly eight (I do love her help in the kitchen, but I have found that you can't rush Mary Ann through her cooking and she likes to make sure whatever it is passes a taste test as each stage of the preparation), Rose was in a good mood, Robert did dishes as I finished them. We could have been on Food Network...it was that good.
Mass was very nice, the girls were great, and I even got to pay attention to the readings. Perhaps I should have seen that Martha/Mary Gospel as a foreshadowing of things to come. (I know, Nana, I know!)
We get home, Robert starts breakfast, scones are in the oven, Rose goes down for a nap, Mary Ann's setting the table--eat your heart out June Cleaver.
The scones take a bit longer to bake than expected--no problem we have smoothies, eggs, little smokies and coffee to tied us over. After a third or fourth oven check, I decide that I've put them in the wrong pan and need to transfer them to a cookie sheet. (By the way, I absolutely do not recommend the silicon bakeware). In the process, these beautiful scones totally fall apart into the mess you see above. Insert here a few very choice words. After being pretty upset and disappointed for a bit, I discover that they still taste okay, life is still good, and maybe I can market them in some future life as "Spones" (spoon + scone)

The moral of the story is: Food doesn't have to look good to taste good, crumbled scones are definitely not worth getting upset about and don't trust pretty red baking pans.