I forgot I had already added salt

Dear Delyara, Twice. That’s how I knew I was not really present in the kitchen, only moving through it by habit. I was making soup, answering one question from my son about football, listening to my husband talk about his meeting, half-thinking about a bill due on Friday, and somewhere inside all of that I salted the soup once, then again. When we sat down to eat, it was almost inedible. My husband laughed kindly. The children complained dramatically, as children do. I laughed too, but privately I felt that little drop of sadness that comes when your own absent-mindedness starts leaving fingerprints on family life. Not because the soup mattered so much. Because I did. I’m tired of being split in five directions while trying to complete one simple task like a whole person.