Tripping Over Typeset

After last week’s confession, I decided something should be done about that dirty floor in my kitchen. So when Saturday rolled around and my house was empty… a rarity in my life! Instead of sipping a latte, catching up on some reading or taking a nap…I decided to clean!

I know…crazy!

I blocked out 2 hours of the morning for some real cleaning. The plan— Start in the living room, move to the kitchen and clean for 2 solid hours and when the time was up, I would be done — no matter where I was in the process.

I had just finished mopping that dirty kitchen floor when my little guy came home from working with Hubby. I told him the floor was wet so he tip-toed in with his socked feet and proceeded to climb onto the counter so as not to walk on the floor.

“What would you like for lunch?” I asked.

“Circle bread and cheese…and mom… I’m goin’ sit up here and eat.”

I smiled at the simple life of a 5-year-old.

I made sandwiches with a side of fruit and chips.  I was planning to just stand next to him when he added, “Mom, come sit up here with me!”

The Kitchen Counter

I have a plethora of memories at the kitchen counter. I can see the blue-green swirled counter-top of my childhood home.

• How many cinnamon rolls and chocolate chip cookies were prepared there?
• How many loads of dishes were piled across that surface?
• How many times had I sat on that counter while my mom cooked and we chatted about the day?

I would dangle and swing my feet, banging the cabinets below. Oh, what I’d give for a simple day of chatter with mom.

My little guy’s voice brought me back to the present….”Sit here, Mommy!”

My first response: “No, there’s not room for me.”

“Yes, Mommy, here… I’ll scooch over…you sit here!” and his little hand patted the counter.

How ridiculous…a woman my age sitting on a kitchen-counter…

But then something great and good trumped my aged reasoning and I jumped up there… big back-end and all!

We sat there… we two… feet dangling over the wet floor as if sitting on a dock over the water.

We talked of birds and cars and shared an apple… bite for bite.

He raised my arm and tucked himself under, laying his head against my chest.

The space was tight but our thoughts were wide-open and our hearts shared the moment.

I whispered to myself, “Someday I’m goin’ miss these moments….I’m glad I didn’t today!”

I could have missed this moment like I’ve done so many times before. I seem to reason away why I can’t slow down. How I’ve got things to do, people to see and places to go. I’m too busy to slow-down.

I didn’t sip a latte and I didn’t get a nap but I did get something better… A moment to slow down, breathe in and let my feet dangle… even if it was from a kitchen counter.