It's Okay

I volunteered to help at Cole's school breakfast the other day.  He said that was fine but to "not...well...you know..."

"Do anything embarrassing?" I clarified.

"Yeah.  Like call me sweetie or Coley or something."

But it's okay.  Because we made it all the way to the age of 7 before he realized I might embarrass him.  Plus, I tricked him by pretending I was wearing my bathrobe that morning (which I thought was a bit more appropriate than Floyd's idea that I should wear a swimsuit).  "GET THAT OFF!!!"  he yelled when he realized that I was driving to school in my bathrobe.  So I got a good laugh plus the 7 years of being non-embarrassing.  Oh, and one more plus...he did tell me I could wave at him if I wanted.  He's generous like that.

Annie's daddy bought her a little bead kit after her art show last week.  So the little sweetheart said thank you by making him the first necklace with it.  Now she makes certain he puts it on for special occasions.  Like family night bowling.

 

But it's okay.  Because I'm pretty sure everyone smiles when they see a 6'4" 33-year-old guy wearing a pastel-colored necklace.  And also, it's not like the folks working at the bowling alley were necessarily...um...aware of fashion rules.

And here's Ben.  In a pile of peanut butter.  Mom ran upstairs for twenty seconds - the fool.

 

But it's okay.  Because it went nicely with the honey he smeared on the tile the day before.  Plus you can see how happy he was about it. 

And hey family - remember when we took the blue truck down to Grandma and Grandpa on the reservation?  And how horrifically awful Jake's feet stunk on that trip?  And how for years afterwards a pile of red sand would fall out when you opened the door?  And how you can still find bits of that red sand in the truck today, twenty-three years later?

Well great news.  I get to relive that fun experience.

'Cept this time it's with flour.

Flour that will spill out of my pantry every time I open it for the next seven years.

 

Flour that will be found in this house until the millenium.  

But it's okay.  Because I didn't have ANYTHING else to be doing for the two hours I spent futilely cleaning it up today.

And it's okay because I had just scrubbed the floor twenty minutes before the flour not-so-mysteriously appeared while I was showering, so I was all practiced up to scrub it again.

And it's okay because maybe I will get to move before the millenium and someone else can wonder why flour spills out of the pantry every time it opens.

And it's okay because his feet don't stink.

These kids sure run me ragged some days... 
 

 But seriously, it's okay.