(My little Miss Idaho)
There was mutiny on the homefront today, all mutineers under the age of 10. Rebellion in the chores department. The Captain had to work, so the Quartermaster (myself) had to take over. If we'd had a plank they would've walked it and I would've been the guy with a patch over my eye, picking food out of my teeth with my hook, smiling wickedly.
I felt like the lingering fog throughout the day hid my mean ol' self from everyone but my kids. However, if you got close enough to the house you may have heard me . . . and I'm not a yeller, so that's saying something. [I admit that because I KNOW I'm not the only one. And I'm not going to beat myself up about it, either.] "Tommorow is always fresh and new, with no mistakes in it." I believe that. And props to you if you can name what movie it's from.
Ben walked in and I walked out, to the temple. Solace. Regrouping. Recommitting. Repenting for the mean things I said with the intent to hurt. I came home to kids snug in their beds. I apologized to each of them. And they forgave me, kissed me even, bless their hearts.
I better run, they're announcing the 12 finalists on the Miss America Pagent. I hope Miss Kentucky wins!
p.s. Christmas is put away. My house feels empty, bare, a little melancholy. Maybe that's why I was so grouchy today?