Perfectly Imperfect

Every Wednesday, we get a big pink box of food delivered on our front porch.  The box says, “Imperfect Foods.”  I thought I knew what imperfect meant, but I asked Mr. Guy just to be sure.  He explained that imperfect usually means that something has flaws.  I thought about that for a minute.  I wondered how we know if our food has flaws.  The Lady has found some food in our refrigerator that she says is a “science experiment” and we cannot eat it.  But, she never called any of it flawed or imperfect.  We always eat the food that comes in the pink box.

Maybe the food in the box is imperfect imperfect food.  That makes it not flawed, right?  I asked Mr. Guy about this.  He said this was not the case, that the food is indeed somehow flawed.  Of course my next question was “how is it flawed?”  Mr. Guy explained that some of it is considered flawed because someone made too much of that food and so that it did not go to waste, Imperfect Foods got it to give people who would use it.  Then there also are foods that have gotten a new package, but the food already in the old package is still good.  Mr. Guy showed me that most of what we get is fruit and vegetables whose shape, size, or color are “somehow flawed.”  This concerned me.  Who determines if something’s…or someone’s…shape, size, or color is imperfect?  And, if there are things that are imperfect, there must also be things that are perfect.  I looked up a definition for perfect: “having all the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics; as good as it is possible to be.”

Who decides what is perfect?

I’m pretty sure that Mr. Guy and The Lady think that I am perfect.  They adopted me so I must be desireable.  I don’t know what elements, qualities or characteristics are required of a furry little blue and orange monster, but I think I have at least some of them…but perhaps not all of them.

Maybe I am imperfect.  My size, shape, and certainly my colors are not the same as other monsters that I’ve met, which is not many, but still… Who can tell me if I’m imperfect?

Should I even worry about being imperfect?  Or perfect?

I looked at the oranges and apples in our Imperfect Foods box.  They looked fine to me.  Maybe because they were a little smaller than some of the ones that we have gotten at the market.  To me the Imperfect Foods apples and oranges were perfect because they fit into my little monster mitts.  But, someone else thought that they were imperfect.

The blueberries were also small.  Again, to me this is a good thing.  When The Lady made blueberry muffins, it seemed like there was more blueberry flavor in each muffin.  The little blueberries seemed to swom around and fill up the muffin cups better..  It is kind of like the difference between  making cookies with chocolate chips or a whole chocolate bar.  In my opinion, there were no flaws in my blueberry muffins!  The little blueberries seemed perfect to me.

We also got some flowers in our imperfect pink box.  The Lady let me put them in the vase.  My flower arranging skills may be flawed, but I thought the flowers were pretty perfect.  They made me and The Lady smile.

I looked at the flowers carefully.  Some were small.  Some were not all the way open or were missing a few petals.  Some had broken stems.  But I thought they were all beautiful.

Mr. Guy explained that different people have different ideas about what, or who, is perfect and what, or who, is flawed.  It is one thing when you are talking about apples, oranges, and blueberries, but it is another thing when you are talking about people and monsters.  He said that maybe imperfect and imperfect are not the best words for us to use to describe people or things.

I’ll have to think more about that, but right now I think he may be flawlessly correct.

Maybe the people delivering the pink boxes of food should consider changing their name.