I wake up to weird things in the house lately. These kids stay up later than me now, and the evidence of their nighttime activities leaves me baffled.
There is a two-gallon insulated Igloo drink cooler on the floor in the bathroom. Why???
A mutilated can of sweetened condensed milk sits in the refrigerator. Someone obviously couldn’t get the can opener to work, and maybe went at it with a knife? What were you even planning to do with sweetened condensed milk after midnight?
A blue striped towel, the coloring drained in patches. It’s been bleached by hair dye and dropped on the bathroom floor.
A small saucepan on the stove, dried remnants of ramen noodles stuck to the bottom.
Wrappers. Wrappers everywhere. Cheese-stick wrappers. Lollipop wrappers. Band-aid wrappers. I find them in the most random places. Next to the dog’s bowl. On the side table. Behind the toilet.
There are socks on the dining room floor. A fork under the couch. Eyelashes on the coffee table.
Why are my dishwashing gloves in the backyard?
Guys, these are REAL things!
What is HAPPENING here??
These little messes annoy me. But I’m grateful that they didn’t leave a whole sink full of dirty dishes after a night of binge-baking. It’s been known to happen. I’m glad that there aren’t snack bags all over my living room, like last week. I’m grateful that nobody forgot to turn off the oven or blow out a candle or push the freezer door all the way closed. I’m glad that I didn’t wake up to burned brownies or a newly-pierced nose or a flooded basement because someone overloaded the washing machine. (All actual, true events.)
And then I have that moment. The moment when I remember. In a few short years, they’ll be gone. There won’t be any messes to wake up to. There won’t be any 2am giggle fests. There won’t be any disastrous baking attempts or pink hair dye or midnight ramen.
It will be so clean.
And so quiet.
And so strange.
Oh, God. I pause. I say a prayer of gratitude. I vow, once again, to take in these moments. To laugh at the absurdity of the bathroom cooler and the backyard gloves and the mutilated can of sweet milk. To appreciate their curiosity and their fearlessness and their appetites. To be grateful for the chance to teach them and laugh with them and love them.
One day very soon, I’m gonna miss this mess.
Eyelashes on the coffee table! That’s an unexpected one!