I finished eating my dinner before everyone else. I sat back in my chair as a quiet observer. I heard the sounds of little mouths chewing. Gross? Yes. Little kids don't remember to chew with their mouths closed. Yet in spite of the grossness a small smirk formed on my lips. All these little mouths came from me. Flesh of my flesh. And here they are all eating and growing and smiling and swallowing independantly of me. Little people as different as can be, who'll grow and become and contribute to the world in their own way. Admittedly, I did want to pull my hair out a few times today, but redemption came at this little glimpse of a moment. Dinner. All together. As a family.
In honor of that moment, enjoy:
"The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking eachother out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together." --Erma Bombeck