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August 19, 2011

The day begins with the dawning of my seven month old puppy snatching my bra off the chair it had been carelessly tossed upon the night before.  Springing around the room as if she has captured some living treasure I know the day has begun.   I reach for my cell phone to illuminate time.  Even before the digital numbers spring to life my body tells me it is way too early to rise; 4:25 am. 

Sighing deeply I gather the remnants of yesterdays athletic wear, laundry piling up and head downstairs asking the question I ask each day.  “OK God Where are we going today?”

Where we head today is the land of patience.  Within ten minutes I have spilled over an ounce of powdered detergent onto the floor watching as it cascades down the pile of laundry like some old time slinky on a staircase; one level to the next.  I reach quickly for the box only to feel powerless  as the weight of the white powder inside and the awkward  angle at which I have grabbed the voluminous box act in opposition of each other.  Horrified I watch as the cardboard tears away and I am left holding an empty box.  I struggle to clean up the white mixture as my puppy dashes here and there scattering the powder throughout the room.  At least the room smells clean.