Tuesday, August 31, 2010

My Missing Jeans

“Um, Hon . . .” I said sheepishly. “Can you help me find my jeans?”

The whole family was supposed to be headed out the door in about 10 minutes and here I was begging CrazyMom to help my find my pants. It is always rather humiliating for me to have to go to CrazyMom with such requests – the type of requests that our kids make of her all day long.

She started up the steps quizzing me along the way.

“Did you look in your dresser?”

“Yes,” I replied. (I mean, come on hon. How bad am I?)

“Did you look in the pile of clean clothes by your dresser?”

“Yes,” I said, wincing because I knew that the clothes had been there a week and I had not put them away yet.

“How about the laundry?”

“Yes, I checked the laundry.”

Upon entering our room, CrazyMom went straight to my unpacked suitcase from a trip two weeks ago, reached into the bottom of it and pulled out my missing jeans. She held them out to me with an I-am-so-good-and-you-know-I-am-so-good-so-I-don’t-have-to-let-the-kids-know-about-this-like-you-would-have-to look.

“Thanks,” I said truly appreciative and in awe of how CrazyMom always knows where everything is. But I also wondered if she knew the whole time where my pants were but just wanted to be there for this moment.

You know, I guess part of me is looking forward to selling most of what we have as we go off to Africa. Maybe with so much less stuff even I will be able to find things like CrazyMom.

2 comments:

"Are These Kids All Yours?" said...

I think this is how God just made women- he he he he

ajshaw said...

This made me laugh... Tim's pile of clean clothes makes me roll my eyes :) Thank God for Crazy mom!!!!!!!