Here’s the song reference.
About twenty minutes before I started writing this (roughly 5:15 a.m.), I was awakened from a deep and desperately-needed sleep by odd noises emanating from the kitchen. After quickly donning my slippers, I flung open our bedroom door to find bright light coming from said kitchen . . . and a telltale blankie in the baby gate at the top of the steps.
When I turned the corner into the kitchen, Mr. Man turned around, atop the kitchen chair he’d moved over to the sink.
I took two very deep breaths and prayed for the grace to not freak out.
After issuing a series of very stern admonitions to Mr. Man, I ushered him back down the stairs to his room, escorted him to his bed, and informed him in no uncertain terms that he was to remain in the bed, then came back upstairs to try to set things back to rights. The oven was on and set to 485 degrees, cinnamon had been poured all over the stove, the floor was covered in water, a milk bottle from the recycling bag was filled with goldfish crackers, the cupboard was open and multiple cups had been removed and filled with water, the sink had a fine film of blue Play-Doh in it, and . . . well, you get the idea.
As I write this, I can hear Mr. Man downstairs opening and closing his door, so I need to wrap up quickly. I had planned to write a post about the tribe and Smudgie today; since that won’t be possible, I hope you’ll enjoy the photos that would have accompanied the post! I thought about including pictures of the debris field in the kitchen, but it was such a mess in the first place (we’ve been flying in and out of the house a lot lately) that it might have been hard for unfamiliar eyes to discern what mess was caused by Mr. Man and the pre-existing chaos.
Today’s prayer: Lord, thank You for our stout house, for a stove upon which to cook, dishes from which to eat and drink, and clean drinking water. Thank You for the spices with which we season our meals, for the bounty of food with which You provide us, and for Your four precious blessings whose curiosity about Your creation is so great that it sometimes precludes sleep for them. Please grant me what wisdom I need to figure out how to keep Mr. Man in his bed and out of the kitchen during the hours he should be sleeping, and please send Your angels to watch over him, and all of us, when we are in danger, whether we recognize the danger before us or not.
Lord, please have mercy on Your servant, Nonno. Please release him from his pain and grant him the joy of celebrating Your birthday with You in person. Please send Your comfort and Your peace to Deedaw, Manie, Zio Frankie, and all of us who will grieve his passing from this world. Please empty our hearts of despair and fill them with the hope in You that will allow us a small share in the joy Nonno will have with you, until we meet him again.