When we moved to Florida years ago we lived in a cramped apartment while house-hunting. I was also learning a new job, settling kids into a new school and finding my way around a new town. So you could say we were all a tad bit…um…edgy.
The evenings were particularly tense as the children stepped on each other climbing over boxes to find pajamas, notebooks, even the shower. Since we were on the second floor there wasn’t even the convenience of playing outside without a parent tagging along. To add to the mass confusion, our youngest son was two years old at the time and potty training.
One particular evening, I was preparing dinner in the kitchen while my hubby was encouraging our little one to visit the porcelain throne. As Dads often do, he turned the whole scene into a game and the two were having a blast. Laughing and soon sidetracked, they began shooting basketball in the over-the-door hoop and practicing their newly discovered wrestling moves. The sounds coming from the other room were comical and I figured it was a good tension release for both of them.
Remembering the original task, my husband soon refocused his efforts and I heard him coaxing our little man to go down the hall to the bathroom. Sometime during the negotiations our little one convinced my husband that he needed to change his clothes first. Who knows why but playing along seemed like a good idea at the time.
So the changing of the clothes quickly became yet another game. Dads are so good at that. Off went the shirt and my hubby tossed it into the air. More laughter. Next went the little pants which were also thrown across the room. Even more laughter. And then came the pull up…
And the screams.
From the kitchen, all I heard next was “HELPPPPPPPPPPPPP!”
As I raced down the hall, I heard my son snickering and my husband yelling for me to hurry. Walking into the bedroom, I saw our son pointing to the ceiling. Then I saw the pull up.
It was inverted and stuck to the ceiling in all of its glory. And I mean stuck – thanks to the biological glue known as poo.
My husband was holding my son up by the ankles and poo was plastered to his little behind. How on Earth the smell test did not clue them in to the existence of poo in the pull up I’ll never know. And evidently it didn’t bother our son at all as he played. As I was contemplating the poo removal procedure, the pull up fell down and landed on my husband’s head. And I did what every good wife would do in this situation.
I grabbed the video camera.
You just never know when poo is going to fall on your head. And it’s the unexpected poo incidents that make you reexamine your choices. What could I have done differently? Did I thoroughly investigate the pros and cons of this decision before I took action? Did I really listen to the leading of the Holy Spirit? Every day we are faced with decisions we must make. Sometimes one direction seems appealing yet if we could really see behind the scenes, we’d see a big ‘ol stinky mess. The Holy Spirit is our helper and will lead us according to God’s good and perfect will for our lives if we let Him.
Trust Him and pray for discernment in all you do lest you too fall into the poo.
And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ.