I was brushing my teeth when I heard a scratching noise. It was coming from my room and growing more and more confident.
The sound levels of chaos grew so—forcing me to spit into the sink and rush to my room, swinging the door open wide.
There, in the center of my crowded bed, was a little dog with big ears and big eyes, staring up at me with the most innocent “what happens to be the problem?” face. She stood among a pile of clean clothes and a wadded up comforter, which she had obviously dug at until the crater in the center suited her.
This didn’t stop me from looking her straight in the eye and yelling, “what are you doing?!”
I believe it was a natural response to, not only an intruder in my bed, but an intruder in my bed who was set on destroying my bed. What I believe was an unnatural response was that I paused and expected an answer.
It’s happened. That moment when it’s time to get up from the couch/bed/chair, and you feel something.
Your left leg is heavier than usual. You’re not sitting on it anymore, so it should be feeling lighter, not heavier. You realize it’s numb. The tiniest wiggle of your pinky toe sends a lightning bolt splintering through your nerves all the way up to your teeth.
My mom and I went on a shopping date last Friday. There was a sale at ULTA that if you buy a big Body Shop body butter you get a mini free. Well I found out the hard way what “while supplies last” means.
I’m telling you this because it may or may not have led to one of the worst decisions of my life.
After ULTA and a lot of whining over my mini-body-butter-less-ness, we went to Bed Bath and Beyond. I was in a sensitive state.
My eyes immediately fell on the Yankee Candle display, beautifully adorned with a bright yellow paper that read “CLEARANCE.” I scanned down the prices, and when I saw that the samplers were $1.49, I needed one.
Prayer, I find a humorous thing. There are so many different kinds of prayer. There’s the young child to old adult who doesn’t know what else to say. . .
God, thank you for this food.
. . type of prayer, which is usually the product of being pushed into saying something at the dinner table and that’s all that comes out.
Speaking of obligatory prayer, how about when someone calls on you to pray for a person in the prayer circle and you’re totally caught off guard.
Um oh sure. Uh, Lord. I pray for, uhhhhh *awkward chuckle until someone in the circle hisses her name* Mary? Marideth! Sorry… Marideth. She’s uh. . needs a job. No? Oh uh sorry. My bad ha. I mean she has an unspoken request…