Growing up there were strict rules of washing the evening dishes; first the glassware, then plastic cups, third plates and bowls, afterwards it was pots and pans. Reversing the order or washing out of order was sure to encourage the wrath of my mom. She would come and drain the dishwater and implore you; okay it may have been demanded, that the dishes be rewashed to ensure they were properly cleaned. During my career of washing dishes in "Mom's Kitchen" I remember breaking quite a few glasses, plates and a few bowls. Whenever, I broke plates, glasses or bowls began my mom never came into the kitchen to scold me or to point out my mistake. She came in to help clean up my mess, check all my fingers for cuts, and drain the soapy dish water. As a kid, this was confusing since I received the third degree for not following the prescribed washing order but nothing for reducing the number of tableware. I didn't realize until later in life why a broken dish became a time which she had a chance to check any hurts, no need for corrections, and also a learning experience instead of the scolding I expected.
As I journey through life, I have begun to realize that breaking dishes are part of the adventure of living. But not maintaining a logical order for the mundane could lead to a higher number of broken dishes, decisions, or rewashes. Sometimes when a dish is broken in life; it is those around you who come help you clean up, check for the seen and unseen cuts, and assist in clearing out the mess which make life worthwhile.
I also remember it was after everything was cleared, dishes washed, and put away that that my mom would request my aid in determining if the broken piece could be salvaged. Thus, by reassembling the piece and gluing them back together with her taught me that the broken pieces or decisions in life should be gathered and given another chance often with the help of others who have seen you broken.