This afternoon, as Caleb and his best friend were eating blueberries at the table, they got a little wacky and dropped a few on the floor. They quickly knelt to start picking them up, but as they realized the totality of the mess in which they created, Caleb was quick to solve the problem. He said, "let's leave this for my mom. She's a really good cleaner. She'll clean it all up."
First of all, I would like to make something clear, because if there is one thing I would like to be remembered for, it's that I was a great cleaner...NOT!
Ironically though, I just so happened to be cleaning our kitchen counters at that exact moment. As I stood there speechless, staring at the yellow rubber gloves that suddenly tightened around my wrists and morphed into a shape that resembled handcuffs, my eyes glazed over and one thought came to mind:
What does it all mean?
Was this the result of pretending not to see the cat vomit that was left in the middle of the living room when I was a child?
Is it because I threw the last few bites of that nasty fish into my toy closet and then told my parent's that I ate all my dinner?
If so, forgive me Father, for I have sinned.
From purgatory with love,
Anna
Now how do I get out of here...
0 comments:
Post a Comment