Spilled Milk

Jesus called a little child unto Him and set him in the midst of them.  And He said: “Verily, I say unto you – Except ye be converted and become as little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.  Therefore, whosoever shall humble himself as this little child, the same is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.  And whosoever shall welcome one such little child in My name welcomes Me.  But whoso shall offence one of these little ones who believe in Me, it would be better for him that a large millstone were hanged around his neck and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.” (Matthew 18:2-6)

I can tell. It’s just going to be one of those mornings.  You know — the ones that start out on the edge and just keep going downhill?  Well, I woke up to “sharing” my bed with the littlest and the oldest this morning.  This is the absolutely the worst combination EVER!  The littlest one moves everywhere kicking and breathing LOUDLY.  The oldest one isn’t really sleeping, nor does he plan on sleeping.  His plan is to ask me every single minute if he can watch television, play his game, have the Ipad, or use my phone, because he knows the household rule is that we don’t get out of bed until after 8:00 a.m.  Today, I gave in and just told him to go do something as long as he was quiet.

Breakfast next. The chosen choice for our breakfast was cereal.  This means that by the time I poured three bowls, we have used almost a whole bag/box.  Nevertheless, I add milk as the three fight over who gets what spoon. I learned a long time ago to colour code the bowls and cups so they never fight over them.  Finally, we settle down on the couch to eat.  (Yes, I know we should not eat on the couch but I have discovered that my children can make just as much mess and do just as much damage anywhere, so for today, the couch it is).

When it comes to my children, I wish you could meet my littlest one.  He has the most personality I have ever seen, jam packed inside a fat, short body that pretty much resembles the poster boy for Michelin. So, while we were happily eating on the couch, and my youngest contentedly eating from his bowl of cereal, he dropped one.  Not a spoonful. Just one.  One tiny, small, it’s not going to matter corn flake crumb.  But in the process of him retrieving the one, he dumps his entire bowl of cereal on me.

Do you know that cereal is cold?  And that cereal is sticky!  This is not going well.  The best part is that five minutes later it happens all over again – just about the moment in time that I got the last spilled bowl of cereal soaked up and absorbed.  Live and learn. Not quite! The fun doesn’t end there.

In fact, my morning is (seemingly) getting worse and worse as the time pushes forward. Right now, for example, the three boys are currently dressing themselves which means they are messing up their dressers (and probably their rooms too). In the midst of this chaos, the littlest one climbs up beside me and kisses me on the cheek.  Then he says, “I tissed you!”  Well, come on now — how can you not smile at that.

“I tissed you,” he said, just like that. And he knew it would work.  It was his way of bringing his mamma a box of chocolates, a dozen red roses, or even cleaning the house.  Three little words, a happy little grin, and a strong will to plow through whatever this world may throw his way.  I tissed you.  Yes, you did, little man, and you made me smile.

 

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