The Myth of the “Quick Little Change”

It always begins gently. A message, often sent outside business hours. The tone is breezy, almost affectionate: “Hey, quick little change…” I read it, standing in the soft glow of the bathroom light, toothbrush idle. I should ignore it. But I don’t.

The request: remove a UI component. Not hide it, not comment it out, but remove it—entirely. Of course, this component was never designed to be removed. It was threaded into the page like a hem stitched directly to the lining. No modular wrapper. No handy toggle. To extract it cleanly required an evening of archaeological work—gently, respectfully, like removing an organ and hoping the patient would continue breathing.

I commit the changes. I test. I confirm. I sleep a little less than usual.

The next morning, a new message:

“Actually, can we put that back in?”

No explanation. No contrition. Just the casual return of what had been, only recently, deemed unnecessary. I stare at the screen for a moment longer than I should. Then I restore the component. I re-align the layout. I re-test the responsiveness. I do not complain.

Because this is the contract we accept: to do difficult things that look easy, and to undo them, gracefully, when the wind changes.