Let me tell you about my Wednesday.
It all started when I finally cleaned out my youngest son’s closets last week. I pulled out all of his old clothes and made two piles: a pile to keep and a pile to toss. I even went so far as to sort my “toss” pile into two more sub-piles: one for trash and one to give away. Usually, everything gets shoved into one big garbage bag and dumped off at the nearest unsuspecting Goodwill, but this time I actually sorted and folded my give-away pile. Two neat piles, done in under an hour. Bam!
Now fast forward to Wednesday night. The night of our church’s Awana banquet. Awana is similar to Boy/Girl Scouts, and kids can say Bible verses to earn awards for their Awana shirts. Parents are supposed to take said awards home and iron them onto said shirts. The goal, as you might imagine, is to fill the shirts with badges and ribbons and all manner of honorable things.
Well, my son’s awards never seem to find their way onto his shirt. They have no problem finding their way into the washing machine, under the dining room table, in the cupholder of my car, or on the floor of his room, but they just don’t quite make it onto his shirt.
But, awards or no awards, he was to wear his shirt when he stood up in front of the church at the banquet to receive recognition with his fellow club members.
We had to hurry. I only had about 20 minutes to spare between getting home from work and leaving for the banquet. I rushed through the door . . . already calling out instructions to the boys . . . and, of course, Sam couldn’t find his shirt. I told him to check way down in the bottom of his drawer. Not there. Did you look under your bed? Not there . . . and didn’t you just clean out my closets?
The kid had a point.
As halting images of adding the shirt to my “toss” pile began to play through my mind like an old home movie, my heart sank. What kind of mother throws away her son’s Awana shirt the week before the big banquet?
That’s what I get for cleaning out closets!
As it turns out, my son wasn’t the only kid there without his Awana shirt. So I guess there are some other moms out there just like me, who are so many things to so many people they sometimes have a bit of trouble keeping up with it all.
But, if they’re like me, they juggle way more balls than they drop, and maybe they are learning not to worry so much about the ones that roll away from them.