Little Children...

Little children.

One minute they’re crying because they spilled water on their third shirt of the morning (before 7:30am).

The next minute they’re “making” the beds while sweetly singing Immaculate Mary.

The next minute they’ve got all the couches moved around for forts.

The next minute World War Three erupts over who gets what fort.

The next minute they’re politely thanking their mom for giving them breakfast.

The next minute they’re running off to their room crying while mom cleans jam off the walls and fridge.

The next minute they’re out of the room, wearing only a diaper, while shouting, “I’m a SUMO WRESTLER!”

The next minute they’ve got an icepack on their head after having dented a wall with their noggin.

The next minute they’re resting on the couch, ripping library books.

The next minute they’re kneeling quietly, with hands folded, and saying the most lovable prayer to Jesus that has ever been uttered.

There is never a dull minute with little children.


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