What my cranky love of applesauce taught me about creativity
I once overheard several adults pose the following riddle: How do you divide 10 apples between 11 kids so that everyone gets the same amount? The solution struck me as such a creative and equitable way to address a seemingly insuperable problem.
The solution… you make applesauce! And I love applesauce!!
So I thought it appropriate, given that I am a toddler and that I possess all the bonafides that one might expect from a 2 year old, to insist that Daddy serve me applesauce. I have come to develop a fondness for the tasty apple goo, and I take for granted that it should be served to me with all the appropriate protocols and refinements of snack time. But I was aghast and dismayed at Daddy’s audacity when he presented me with the package we had acquired from the supermarket, and insisted that I serve myself.
He mumbled something about trying to help me learn to be independent, and he repeated his tired platitudes about creative problem solving, “just like big boys and girls,” but I wasn’t having it. I was too tired, too hungry, and too cranky to deal with this offense to my rarefied sensibilities, and to his infantilizing tone.
As my frustration grew, he attempted to offer clues — as he called them — to help me remove the applesauce cup from the package. But how could I possibly tolerate such patronizing appeals for equanimity? I was exasperated that Daddy was being so paternalistic, and also that he wouldn’t just do it for me. I felt the dissatisfaction growing in me as I burst into defiant tears, pleading with him to end this pointless exercise, and to immediately comply with my demands. My eyes welled with tears, and I escalated my tantrum into a frenzied froth, flailing my arms and legs to make the point clearly and directly that his obstinacy would not stand.
It was just then, in my blinding frustration, which had boiled over into an eruption of paroxysms, that I threw the package off the table. As the projectile hit the floor, one of the cups dislodged itself from the package, and it seemed that my object had been won.
Daddy and I looked at each other and smiled, breaking into laughter. These kinds of mood swings are not uncommon when I am tired and hungry. This unexpected turn of events made me forget my annoyance, at least for a moment, and Daddy said, “Look what you have done! You figured out another way to get what you want, all by yourself! That is creative problem solving!”
He continued by revisiting some of the other ways we might have solved the problem, most of which, to my disappointment, did not involve throwing objects across the room.
But it was short lived. In the next instant, my attention had swung back once again, and I was already on to the next problem I had to confront. How would I access that sweet ambrosia still trapped in the cup? I commanded Daddy to do it for me, but once again, he would not comply, so I urgently resumed my protest with even greater intensity.
He patiently offered a few clues, showing me the tab on the cup where my fingers could grasp and pull away the aluminum leaf that covered the contents. “No!” I defiantly shouted. “No, no, no!” Daddy’s words failed to sooth my irritation as it grew. How could they? That thin membrane was the only thing between me and the applesauce I craved. It had to be obtained by any means possible.
In a fit of desperation, I grabbed the spoon that lay waiting on the table ready for my prize, and like a dagger, I plunged it backwards into the cup, piercing the foil and at last acquiring the thing that would satiate me. It wasn’t the manner that Daddy had suggested, but it worked! After so much anguish, I finally got what I wanted, and I wanted applesauce because…applesauce.
Now I had what my heart desired, and once again as before, Daddy smiled and reminded me that I was a creative problem solver, and pointed out how I had found another way to achieve my goal when I thought I was stuck. He enjoined me to enjoy my treat. Finally, we could peacefully savor our snack time, and we both smiled.
But then I had an epiphany. I saw the entire situation in a whole new way! A creative mind always finds new possibilities. So I tossed the applesauce on the floor, and with an obstinate smile, announced my preference for ice cream instead.
