Thursday, August 13, 2009
From Running Shoes to Slippers
Once in awhile, God stops me midstride and forces me to turn my running shoes into bedroom slippers. To do lists wait, messes pile, and I must sit. With a pounding top heavy head and half open eyes, I slide into the tub, hoping the mint scented bubbles will ease the pain, the weariness enough that I might keep Sunshine occupied for an hour. I close my eyes. I can't move. Suddenly I feel a plop beside me, I open my eyes a crack and find a bath buddy. "If you ever need me, just call. I'll aways be dare." She turns on the jets and begins to wash me. "I'm youw suvant." I then get the most thourough cleaning of my life. My hair, which I was going to leave gets washed, massaged, and rinsed. I get a bubble outfit. I get a rat (plastic one) continually removed from my tub. "I can speak with animals and so I know his name. No more baths for you!" Then it sneaks in again.
Finally, with prune fingers and toes we leave our bubbly playground. We each get a pumpkin smelling lotion and lather it on. When my buddy's feet shine with body creme, we know we are done.
I am moving down to lay on the sofa. I hope I can keep my eyes open. But happily, I've discovered that Sunshine may even like the slippered mom even better than the one in running shoes.