Worth The Smile

Why is it that I manage to smash the "make you smile" mugs and glasses, and not the boring "get the job done" ones?
 
Yup, another character mug bit the dust on my kitchen floor today, preceded by a slow-motion flight off the counter, and a similarly slow-motion "nooooooooo!" from me as it traveled. I was unable to change its course, merely able (and forced) to clean up the shards once the event was over.
 
I scooped with the efficiency of a person who has done this way too many times before, and with enough speed to make me try to forget, or at least put aside, what I'd done. Dwell too long on the broken pieces of Snoopy and friends, and I might fall apart. After all, it was only a mug.
 
Why, I wonder, do I surround myself with things  that make me happy, when breaking them (which is remarkably easy with small counters and a tile floor) makes me so sad? Wouldn't it be better just to have things that were serviceable, but not emotional, so that we wouldn't miss them when they broke?
 
I don't think so. You see, eliminating the "really good," so that we don't have to mourn when it's gone leaves us with a world of "just okay," which might be okay, but just "okay." Isn't it better to have "really good," even if we know it may not last forever?
 
Sure, I am sad that one of my "make me smile" mugs is gone. But it made me smile while it was here. And that was worth it. And things like that, as far as I'm concerned, will continue to be WELL worth it.