PLEASE HOLD YOUR APPLAUSE

An official celebration of achievements unlikely to receive trophies.

DELIGHT No. 5

Some accomplishments are recognized appropriately.

Graduations.

Promotions.

Championships.

Awards.

Finishing a marathon.

These are impressive and deserve celebration.

But there is an entire category of human achievement occurring every single day without so much as a ribbon.

This injustice has gone on long enough.

😂

Therefore, effective immediately, The Little Book of Delight recognizes the following as legitimate victories:

Plugging in a USB correctly on the first try.

Peeling an orange and getting the entire skin off in one glorious spiraling piece.

Finding money in a coat pocket.

Getting every grocery bag into the house in one trip.

Opening a new jar without assistance.

Catching something you dropped before it hits the floor.

Waking up three minutes before the alarm.

Finding the exact thing you needed in the junk drawer immediately.

And perhaps the rarest achievement known to humankind:

Folding a Fitted Sheet

If you can do this properly, we have questions.

You may be a wizard.

There is no other reasonable explanation.

😂

The Parking Space

You know the one.

You're approaching a crowded place.

Cars everywhere.

You begin preparing yourself emotionally for the seventeen-mile walk from wherever you eventually abandon the vehicle.

And then—

right near the entrance—

someone pulls out.

For you.

The space appears.

You look around suspiciously.

Surely there has been some mistake.

No.

It's yours.

For approximately four seconds, everything you have ever believed about divine providence seems entirely reasonable.

😂

Take the space.

Accept your blessing.

The Perfectly Timed Microwave

You are across the kitchen.

The microwave is counting down.

3...

2...

You reach it—

1...

and open the door at the exact moment before:

BEEP.

There should be stadium lights.

There should be commentators.

There should be instant replay.

Instead, nobody saw it.

This is devastating.

Please know that we believe you.

The Sheet Corner

You put a fitted sheet onto the mattress.

First corner.

Second.

Third.

Fourth.

And the first corner stays on.

Nobody speaks of this enough.

The Thing Fits

You are putting leftovers away.

You choose a container based entirely upon instinct.

No measuring.

No calculation.

You spoon in the food.

And it fits.

Exactly.

Not too much.

Not too little.

No second container.

No enormous empty space.

You stand there holding it.

Quietly stunned by your own abilities.

This is what mastery feels like.

The Grocery Line

You choose a checkout line.

Historically, this has been dangerous.

The other lines are always faster.

You know this.

You have accepted it as part of your personal mythology.

But today?

Your line wins.

You try not to look smug.

You fail.

Understandable.

The Matching Lid

There are twelve containers.

There are twenty-seven lids.

None of this makes mathematical sense.

You select one.

Click.

Perfect fit.

Please hold your applause.

Actually—

no.

Go ahead.

👏👏👏

Tiny Victories Deserve Tiny Celebrations

This is where I think we have been going wrong.

We wait for large reasons to celebrate.

What if we became significantly easier to impress?

Successfully flipped a pancake?

Victory dance.

Remembered why you walked into the room?

Standing ovation.

Untangled a necklace without becoming emotionally involved?

Medal ceremony.

Parallel parked beautifully while someone was watching?

Please allow several minutes for your acceptance speech.

Found the end of the tape immediately?

National holiday.

😂

Establish Your Own Ceremony

You don't need much.

A tiny bell.

A ridiculous salute.

A phrase.

A dance lasting no more than four seconds.

Perhaps whenever someone in your household achieves something unexpectedly satisfying, they announce:

“I would like the record to show...”

Everyone nearby must stop.

The accomplishment is reported.

“I would like the record to show that I cracked an egg with one hand and there is no shell in the bowl.”

The appropriate response is solemn admiration.

“Noted.”

Then everyone continues with their day.

Imagine how much more entertaining Tuesday could become.

The Tiny Trophy

Actually...

we may need one.

Find the most absurdly small trophy you can make.

Cardboard.

Clay.

A bottle cap glued to something.

A tiny cup made from aluminum foil.

It does not need to look good.

In fact, it may be better if it doesn't.

Write:

THE TRIUMPH OF THE MOMENT

on the base.

The trophy lives somewhere in the house.

Whenever somebody achieves something wonderfully insignificant, they receive it.

They keep the trophy until someone else earns it.

There may be heated competition.

The Committee accepts no responsibility.

Today's Eligible Achievements

Did you remember someone's name?

Did the toast land butter-side up?

Did you water the plant before it became visibly judgmental?

Did you spell a difficult word correctly without autocorrect?

Did you get the thread through the needle on the first try?

Did you make the bed and then resist immediately getting back into it?

Did you walk into a room and remember why you went there?

Then congratulations.

You have accomplished something today.

Will history remember?

Probably not.

Did it feel disproportionately satisfying?

Absolutely.

And that is sufficient.