Thursday, October 21, 2010

Well it's only been 6 months or so since I posted....I have alot of excuses really...#1 being I can't figure out how to get my pictures where I want them to be...and I haven't made the time to figure it out. Why I chose tonight to do this is beyond me. I stink, I've been in the basement with my dear hubby trying to unclog the drain....wishing I had the money to call Roto Rooter! No, instead I've been vacuuming up what looks like...well for lack of a nicer word...vomit. My kitchen is totaled...I haven't been able to run the dishwasher or wash any amount of dishes because the drain has been backing up. It's 11pm and I just want a shower, my jammies and something to help me forget the moment's reality. Ugh. As I was vacuuming up drain droppings I was thinking to myself..."How do I find Jesus in this moment?" I was thinking back to quite a few years ago when my friends and I had just come home from an awesome evening at church where God showed up and it was amazing...we were still basking in it when we arrived at my friends house only to discover that the sewer was backing up into the bathtub and the kids were about to take a bath....How do you make that transition? From delighting in His Presence to sewer in your bathtub? I'm still pondering it, and I have no answers at the moment except "Give Thanks in Everything!".

And now, it's my turn for a shower...

I leave you with this funny story of something that happened here this summer...I laughed so hard I cried...maybe I'll read it again, I could use a laugh right about now!

(The above picture is my 4yr old at the Peter Iredale "Pirate Ship" as he calls it.)

So let me preface this story with a few facts...

For starters, my husband has been known to bring home "treasures" from time to time....some valuable (a fiberglass ladder he found on the freeway shoulder) and some not so valuable (dirty sweatshirts found in the woods). So I'm always a little leery when he comes home from work and says "You'll never believe what I found!"

Secondly - I'm sure you will agree with me that 90% of men cannot stand the smell of or the cleaning up of poopy pants. My husband is one of those men.

Now for the funny part.

We went camping over Labor Day and a few days ago my husband was cleaning out the back of the pickup...and I heard him mumble something about Taylor's swim shorts being back there. I dismissed it because I couldn't figure out why his shorts would be back there - after all the weather was not shorts weather. So I thought to myself "Oh it's just something Chip found on the beach and threw in the back of the truck."

The shorts made their way into the laundry room, depositing sand all over the bathroom floor. I still wasn't sure that they were Taylor's - sometimes with little boys you never know why things end up where they do. Right? I decided I would wash them with Chip's work pants which are usually filthy with rocks, asphalt, oil or dirt. So I wash the load - and last night transferred the wet clothes to the dryer. There were a couple pieces of something in the bottom of the washer - I picked them out - examined it and decided it resembled barkdust maybe, only with flecks in it. Odd, I thought.

This morning Chip pulled one of the "clean" pair of pants out of the dryer and wore them today at work. Tonight I finally got around to folding the rest of the work clothes and the swim shorts. I came out to the living room and told Chip "I don't know where you picked these up at but they are not Taylor's shorts." He replied that he didn't know where they came from, that he found them in the back of the pickup when he was unloading the wood. So I return to the laundry room and I'm just going to throw the shorts away. As I'm wadding them up I feel something hard that I thought must be in that inside pocket of swim shorts and I peer inside to find the pocket....Lo and behold I find not a rock or a toy or a superball but a DRIED UP PETRIFIED TURD that somehow made it through the washer and dryer and into my hands. I just smile. Right now I'm wondering, Do I tell him that I just washed his clothes with a turd? And dried them too? I decided that this could be fun. I return to the living room holding the shorts..."Honey, you know those shorts? Well there is a petrified turd inside!" The wheels begin to turn in his head and I cannot contain myself. I am laughing so hard that I'm crying. Then I realize that he took pants out of that load in the dryer to wear today....and I laugh even harder. Tears are streaming down my face. Then he tells me that he pulled something out of his pocket today and couldn't figure out what it was.....and I laugh even harder and I can't stop! If laughter does good like medicine then I am the healthiest woman around.

I may be healthy but my husband wants to burn his clothes and I still can't stop laughing!

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