“Fine, But Like a Spy!”
I begged him. I cajoled.
I threatened and forbid him.
Finally I caved, “Fine, but like a spy!”
Tiptoeing away, my husband braved the gauntlet.
For the last four weeks, midnight fiascos have been occurring at our house. My family’s late night trips to the bathroom are waking up our three year old. Shortly after any bathroom excursions, no matter how stealthy, my preschooler starts to cry and pads over to knock sleepily at our door. It takes several trips to get him to fall back to sleep again then.That has turned me into a cranky, Gestapo-like monitor.
“Slide the door to the right as you open it to avoid the loud budging noise,” I caution. “Turn the door handle as it latches to be absolutely silent,” I warn. “Hey, you tripped on the potty chair!” I hiss as my poor husband returns.
Yes, I have become critical and scary at night. All actions are rated against the idea of being As Silent As a Spy! Leave no trace, make no sound, is a common theme at night now. After a month of interrupted sleep though, I am weary and not as gracious as I should be.
God, in his humor, decided to take my pride down a little. Two nights ago I was noiselessly maneuvering the hall and bathroom (feeling haughty, I admit), when suddenly my toe hit the rubber door stopper. “BWOnnnnnnnngggg!” reverberated the corked stopper loudly in the silent house.
Climbing into bed, I reached over to touch my husband’s cheek. “I bet you laughed at that,” I murmured humbly. He grinned in the darkness, and I apologized, brushing his face with my lips. “I’m sorry I’m such a jerk at night. I’ll try to get better at that.”
What about you? What is God gently, humorously, teaching you?
The winner of last week’s coffee card giveaway is AmySaunders. Amy, email me your address so I can send you that coffee card. Congratulations!