Spaghetti on the Kitchen Floor

Life at present feels like I have dropped uncooked spaghetti all over the kitchen floor.

Now I can do two things, pick them up or leave them and walk away. However everyone is standing at the kitchen door, watching to see what I do. In the small doorway my parents, brothers, wife and kids stand there waiting for my decision.

I stand over the spilled spaghetti strands and look at the utter chaos just lying there. Some of the strands are broken, most are just spilled facing in different directions.

I turn and look at everyone, I turn and look at the patio doors that exit to the garden. Bend down and pick them up? Or make a dash through to the garden and over the fence where nothing awaits?