Perspective

The amount of laundry I manage

(and often manage to ignore)

is starting to have an affect on

how I feel about clothing in general.

Overflowing laundry baskets

make me grumble.

I'm trying to learn to

embrace the sound of legos

being dumped out.

And I'm already worn out from

managing the Christmas decoration

saftey patrol role. It only takes one

item to shatter to a gazillion tiny bits

to make you stop decorating.

All that grumbling I just laid

out there sounds wrong.

These are the best days of my life

and I know it.

A lovely decorated house can come during a

different season in life.

Laundry can be managed when boys

grow-up.

Sounds of little boys playing with toys

is a treat, dump away. I don't care.

Really, I don't. I left legos all over the first floor

for two entire days.

So who cares about laundry, deocrations or legos

when there are bellies to tickle chase to play,

kisses to give and get, hide and seek, snuggles,

and messes to make.