“Mom! He hit the wall and it shot straight up!” Yes, there are moments like today, when I can be honest and confess to loving that ceramic throne. You know, the one that drives its contents down with one flush. It’s sad. Motherhood remains humbling enough already, but on mornings like these, I now wish I could’ve stayed in bed.
I gather my supplies and begin climbing the stairs with my bucket, rag, and a ruffle trimmed plastic gloves in hand. At the top, there it is, strewn across the floor and splattered up the white wall. All I can think about are my growing list of questions.
How am I going to chip those pieces off of the wall?
Why didn’t he make it to the toilet?
Was the light off?
After a lung cleansing sigh, I snap on the protective plastic glove and press the tubes over my fingers. I fold down unto my knees and their popping noises remind me I am not a limber young mom any longer. A few more questions float around in my mind like white mental clouds.
Why am I cleaning this up?
How long can I hold my breath?
I then peel a strip of paper towel up off of the carpet only to reveal a sinister cover up. Nothing was accomplished in the clean-up department following the event. The lentils are sticking like dry crusty bugs on both the wall and the twisting carpet fibers. My three year old takes a leap into my lake of self pity:
“Mom, can I help? Can I come up there? Can I rub your back?”
That last question softens my bitterness and yet, I confess to my unwilling surrender to brighter options. Sadly, I prefer to remain all consumed with my own ideas during the lengthy scrub down. It’s at that moment a chuckle rips from my throat–God just might want to reveal something in this fiasco.
- God uses gratefulness and thankfulness to guard our minds.
- We must trust God to look right into our hearts and teach us.